Welcome to Camp Xavier
by JacAvoy85
Summary: From the second that Erik Lehnsherr saw Camp Counselor Charles (good lord that's a mouthful, Erik briefly wondered if the man could take a...never mind) he had two thoughts. 1) The man looked like an utter moron in those shorts, and 2) The man looked utterly delicious wearing those shorts. Erik had conflict issues he needed to work out.
1. Goodbye Weekend

**A/N: Seriously, I've got to stop watching cartoons with my son. (Damn you Max and Ruby!)**

**Also, try not to take this story too seriously guys, like, at all. It's just me being silly.**

From the second that Erik Lehnsherr saw Camp Counselor Charles (good lord that's a mouthful, Erik briefly wondered if the man could take a...never mind) he had two thoughts. 1) The man looked like an utter moron in those shorts, and 2) The man looked utterly delicious wearing those shorts.

Erik had conflict issues he needed to work out.

Now, normally, Erik would have taken this golden opportunity to drop his children off at camp, and run like hell. He would very much enjoy a weekend free of young children, possibly to go drink and gamble and maybe even hire a prostitute or two.

What? The man was in desperate need of a lay.

But, for some unforeseen reason, Erik couldn't seem to get his feet working in the right order. Instead of hightailing it out of there (beer and prostitutes here he comes!), he found himself walking closer and closer to this intriguing man in the ridiculous khaki shorts (beer and prostitutes, see you later.)

Holy fucking blue eyes! Was the third thought he had when the man turned around.

And from that moment on, Erik knew he was boned.

"Hullo there, and which children are yours?" and, oh god, the smiling British man in the silly shorts was talking him. Erik did what he did best in situations like these: he panicked.

Speak you fucking moron, _speak_.

"Uh, um...Alex, and… uh, the other one…" Erik said in a state of trance, still kind of mesmerized by the blues of the man's eyes.

_The other one_? What the fuck was that Lehnsherr?

Charles must have been thinking along the same lines because now he was giving Erik this odd look—one that said: I'm going to go call child services now, hold on one moment please, thank you.

What? Charles is still quite proper and polite, even when making threats.

Erik shook his head. Christ, you have to recover. "Um, Raven! The other one's Raven. Yep, totally named her Raven." Smooth recovery…

Sort of smiling, sort of frowning, Charles nodded his head. "Wonderful," he said and—probably meant it; the man seemed genuine enough. "Uh, Mister…?"

Erik blinked. Huh?

Oh fuck—name—he wants his name. (Probably to report it to the proper authorities.)

Now what was his name again…?

"Lehnsherr," Erik said suddenly, and why the fuck was he so nervous? The man was wearing khaki shorts and hiking boots; how threatening could he be?

"Ah." Charles nodded. "Well, Mister _Lehnsherr_, it was nice to meet you, and I assure you your children will have a wonderful time this weekend." How polite and posh he was. Erik wanted to see his polite and posh lips rapped around his-

Wait. Children? What children?

_Christ._ What was wrong with Erik?

"Oh, yes, of course." Erik smiled and, it hurt, he's not going to lie. Smiling hurts. "They've been talking about this trip all week. They're very excited." So was Erik, again— beer, gambling and maybe some prostitutes. Charles smiled at him, _brilliantly_, and Erik suddenly wondered why he'd never dropped his children off at camp before. Goddamn Emma, why does she get all the fun? She already got half his shit. That fucking cheating bitch and her 'rights' as the mother. Erik bloody hated her even more now.

"Oh wait," Charles said suddenly, as if he was struck by the same thought as Erik, "Alex and Raven: Emma Frost's (good, she took her maiden name back—she can have it—it suits her personality well) children, right?" And of course that bitch would have talked up Charles. Whoopee, what else can she do to ruin Erik's life? She probably knew from the second she saw sweet and sexy Charles that Erik would want to jump him (Emma was always totally cool with Erik being bi. It's what he liked about her in the first place. Man they had some great threesomes before they got married) and she just HAD to go over and flirt with him. Just to be spiteful.

Was Erik being overly paranoid? Perhaps a wee bit crazy?

"Yes," Erik said dryly, "Emma is their mother, I am their father and our divorce lawyer was quite wonderful." Erik still sends the man Christmas cards. And he doesn't even celebrate.

Charles' face fell. "Oh, sorry to hear that," he said timidly.

"I'm not," Erik replied with a smile, and this one didn't hurt as much.

Giving a shy smile now, Charles suddenly had a look of revelation on his face. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I never properly introduced myself." Probably because he never got the chance since Erik starting gaping at him like a moron from the start. "Charles, Charles Xavier." He stuck his hand out and...was that for Erik? Erik could touch him, really?

Heavenly music started playing in his head: angels and harps and crap like that.

Hmm, he probably should get that checked out- -might be a tumor.

Erik shook Charles' hand and debated how long he could hold onto it before it became creepy stalkerish. The smile just grew over Erik's face.

Annnndd right about now would be that time. Stop. Erik stop. Stop Erik… Erik you have to stop. Stop shaking his damn hand you raving lunatic!

Finally releasing the shorter man's hand and— oh goodie, Charles looked scared now, wonderful— Erik suddenly wanted to jump out the nearest window. Too bad they were outside…on ground level…at a camp…filled with children.

Children did 'not' need that kind of trauma in their lives at such an early age, no matter how big of a fucktard Erik was.

Speaking of children, this would be the time that his chose to make their appearance and- -thank god for that- -because it was starting to get awkward around here. Erik had to recheck and make sure he had indeed stopped shaking the other man's hand.

Yep, good. Hand free.

"Uh, dad?" Alex looked up at his father with an embarrassed look that only an 11 year old could pull off. "What are you doing?"

"He means-" Raven said, stepping around her brother like a bossy 8 year old would, "-what are you still doing here?" She put her hands on her hips (god, she looked just like her mother when she did that). "The whole drive here all you could talk about was having a weekend free and you didn't want it to get wasted."

"No, I think dad said _he_ wanted to "get wasted"…whatever that means," Alex supplied ever so helpfully.

"Yeah that, and, what about the part about "ladies of the evening"?" Raven added, just because Erik's life was so goddamn hilarious. And, oh good—that also means they 'were' listening the entire drive down here. Well fuck Erik's life.

This was all Logan's fault; if he wouldn't have called Erik on the drive down to antagonize him…

Charles cleared his throat. And now, if the look the man was wearing earlier said: _Calling child services the second you leave_; this one was fucking screaming it. Erik chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Eh, kids…they say the darndest things..." And he was seriously considering dropping them off at the nearest orphanage, the little _jerks_.

Still giving Erik the "unfit parent" look, Charles spoke seriously. "Well Mister Lehnsherr, I see you have your weekend all planned out." He gave a curt nod. "I won't keep you any longer. Your children will be safe with me." In other words: far, far away from Erik…and the beer and prostitutes he harbors.

Before Erik had the chance to try and defend himself (it would have been a weak defense, especially with Logan as his only witness), and prove that he was not the alcohol consuming, whore mongering, unfit parent his children made him out to be, Charles' name was being called out by a gawky looking fellow in glasses as he was running up to them.

"Charles!" Hank called out, stopping once he was within close enough range. And oh holy Jesus, this guy just _looked_ like a goddamn oversized cub scout, Erik thought as he snickered to himself.

His kids shot him an unapproved look. Great, they liked overgrown cub scout man.

"Yes Hank, what is it?" Charles questioned in concern, turning his friend.

Catching his breath (maybe this…man?...boy? _Teenager_, Erik concluded, should spend more time outdoors and not so much hidden away in a lab somewhere (he also concluded, based on looks alone. What? Erik's good like that) and then he wouldn't be so out of breath from a simple jog. This was one of the people that Erik was going to trust his children's lives with? Christ oh mighty, this had to be a joke) Hank gave Charles an apologetic look.

"I have some bad news Charles, it's Angel; she won't be able to come with us on this trip." He lowered his voice. "She's having 'female' issues." Hank said, leaving Erik wondering what these 'issues' could be.

The look on Charles' face mimicked one of a kicked puppy. It made Erik want to coddle the man.

What the fuck…where did that come from? What the hell does "coddling" even mean?

"Are you serious?" Charles' cute little face fell, making him look even cuter somehow. Erik should probably not be aroused that look. "That's awful, without Angel we don't have the required amount of chaperons per child to go on the camping trip." he sighed. "The kids will all be so terribly devastated." Charles said, and, who speaks like that? Terribly devastated? Really? Erik wanted to fuck him even more.

Raven's sad little face was the first to break. "What? No…I've been looking forward to this trip all week Camp Counselor Charles," she said with a pout. And she probably meant: to get away from my father, Charles concluded.

"I know dear," Charles said as he kneeled down to her level, "and so have I, but I'm afraid without Angel that just leaves Hank and I, and that's just not enough adults for the adult to child ratio we need in order to participate in the camping trip."

Now, for some unknown reason to Erik, and to his children's horror, he found himself saying the following thing to Camp Counselor Charles (again: what a mouthful. Erik would give him a mouthful—goddamn it, not now _Lehnsherr_),

"I could go."

Four sets of eyes landed on Erik. Two of them with shock and horror at the thought of their father going along, one pair giving him the "who the fuck is this guy" look, that Erik chose to ignore, and the last pair... well the last pair just had a look of fondness and happiness that made Erik's heart skip a beat.

Skip... a beat? Again, may be something that Erik may want to get checked out: doesn't sound like a good medical condition to have.

"Uh, dad, are you high or something?" Alex said and, thanks so much for that son! That's just what dad needs right now.

"No." Raven shook her head, leaning in closer to her father. "He can't be high, I don't smell that funny-"

"Alright children! What lies _has_ your mother been telling you about me?" Erik said quickly with an _I'm really not a horrible father, my kids are just out to ruin me_ smile and, boy, since when DID his children become such little life ruiners? Goddamn Emma.

Charles looked at him for a moment, unblinking, and Hank's mouth just remained open, gaping at him with an _are you fucking serious? Really, who 'is' this douche bag/potential predator_ look.

Fuck all the looks going around, huh? Erik had a few of his own.

There was a moment of silence, and then:

"Alright Mister Lehnsherr, if you think you're up for the task," Charles said happily, to which Hank replied with a hiss: "Are you _serious_? You don't even know him. What are his credentials? How do we even know he's allowed to be around ki-" was as far as he got before Charles was dragging him off and away.

After what looked like a stern talking to about being respectful to adults around their children, no matter how creepy there were, Hank and Charles returned; Hank looking less than thrilled, and Charles looking positively thrilled (but also still a little on the weary side; he didn't quite trust this man fully yet, but it wasn't like to Charles to jump to conclusions too soon. He wanted to give the man a chance, no matter how loudly Hank was mouthing "no Charles, don't do it", in the background).

And it had nothing at all to do with the fact that Mister Lehnsherr looked yummy. Extra, yummy.

"My apologies, as I was saying, Mister Lehnsherr-"

"Erik, please call me Erik." And please, call him Erik later on tonight when he's bending one camp counselor over the nearest-

"Oh." A genuine smile formed over Charles' face (oh thank heavens, the man might trust Erik after all) "Alright then Erik, only if you're positive that you're up for the challenge. It's a lot of kids and the whole weekend, once we head out they'll be no turning back." He then lowered his voice, which absolutely made Erik's cock twitch, hell: he wasn't even going to deny it this time). "And I'm sure you don't want to disappoint your "ladies of the evening"," he added with a smirk.

Hank mouthed "ladies of the evening?" to Charles and Erik just shot his daughter a look.

"What?" She questioned up at him with a shrug. "That's what uncle Logan calls them." A pause, in which Erik thought this couldn't possibly get any worse. "And remember that one time he said that hoe stole his mone-"

He was wrong.

"Raven!" Erik yelled. So very wrong indeed.

Also: goddamn Logan and his goddamn bad influencing ass. It's no wonder Erik only gets his kids every other weekend.

Wide eyed again, Charles looked as if he suddenly wished he could take back his previous statement of accepting Erik's offer. Luckily for Erik, he had the odds stacked in his favor, and only because Charles found him so goddamn attractive.

Ladies of the evening aside, of course.

"Oh, well," Charles said, "this is certainly going to be interesting," with a mutter. He turned back to look at Hank, who was…covering his face with both hands? Now why ever would he be doing that?

"I'm just going to-" Hank pointed somewhere else, "-look something up real quick," he mumbled to Charles before stalking away from the three ring circus, muttering something about America's Most Wanted.

Hank was such a worrier.

"Daddy?" Raven tugged on Erik's pant leg and Erik prayed that the next thing out of his daughter's mouth would not included the following: 1) anything that has came out of Logan's foul mouth—ever, 2) anything involving the word hoe or hoes 3) anything about that time she found "daddy's special cigarettes that smelled like a dead skunk". Either way, Erik was sure he was boned.

"Are you really coming with us?" She asked, looking up at her father with those darling blue eyes.

Oh thank the Lord she didn't say anything incriminating this time. ONE of his kids love him at least.

"Camp Counselor Charles, are you going to make my father pee in a cup like the last time we went somewhere with him?" Alex asked. A pause. "Because he failed last time... what ever that means."

Holy Hell! Thanks a lot _Alex_. If one of his kids wasn't betraying him then the other one was. _Christ. _Erik could visibly see the look of "second thought" appearing over the counselor's face as the man leaned down and told Alex that that wouldn't be necessary this time around- -and Erik wasn't sure if he liked the other man's tone.

His children were really not making this easy one him. He suddenly wished he had one of his funny smelling cigarettes on him to ease the tension. Bloody hell what a weekend this was going to be.

He did however have his normal cigarettes on him. Those would do. He drew his pack out of his pocket just in time to hear Charles say something as equally horrible as what his traitorous children had been saying ever since they stepped foot near Camp Counselor Charles.

"Oh, uh, there's no smoking on camp grounds… or anywhere near the children for that matter."

Erik just stared at him, cigarette hanging on his bottom lip loosely.

Well fuck his life again.

No wait, hold on; not yet.

"Mommy said that smoking makes you…emp…empa…have a sad penis." Raven said.

NOW fuck his life again. _Christ_. Erik kneeled down to his daughter's height and looked her square in the eye with a very soured look on his face. "Is that so?" He questioned. Raven nodded. "Well, you can tell your mother that she's a lying bitc-"

Charles cleared his throat.

"-lying liar, and that daddy does not have a sad… thingy." In fact, it's fucking happy, and _huge (_and if Erik remembers correctly, it got Emma pregnant_ twice, _so ha!)—and he wasn't above whipping it right now out to show Charles this!

Well maybe not in front of his children… or any children for that matter. He is at a goddamn camp after all.

He could just see Logan now, too; cigar in mouth, beer in hand, howling and pointing at the t.v as they showed Erik's ugly mug with the captions: Man turns "Camp Xavier" into "Camp XXX".

Yeah, Logan would fucking love that. Asshole.

"Is it true though dad?" Alex questioned, and Erik was sure it was going to be followed up with something else that would insure Erik's ongoing humiliation. "Because if smoking really causes sad penises, I think I'll quit now."

DEAR GOD. WHAT THE HOLY FUCK?

_Could this day get any worse? _

"Alex you smoke?" Charles choked out as his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Next he turned his accusing stare to "Father of the Year". Erik was just frozen with shock.

"Yeah, the candy ones, but the 'smoke' isn't as impressive as when dad does it." A pause. "But still, if it causes sad penises, I won't smoke them anymore."

Oh thank god…

Both Erik and Charles let out duel sighs of relief.

But then:

Raven perked up. "Remember the time that daddy-"

_Oh dear lord this goes on?_

"Raven, please shut up darling," Erik said with a forced smile through his teeth. Seriously, trip to orphanage is in the pending future.

This was all Emma's fault; the kids get their smart-ass mouths from her.

Okay, and Erik.

And Logan.

And probably Logan's hoes.

Charles looked as if he couldn't possibly take anymore shtick, he took a step back and eyed Erik carefully. "Well, uh, Mister Lehnsherr, it will be a … uh, pleasure, to have you join us." Lie, that was probably a lie. Erik could see the self doubt in the man's lovely blue eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some things to take care of before we take off." And if Charles would have left any faster, there would have been a cloud of dust behind him.

Erik turned and looked evilly at his kids. "You two-" he pointed at them, "-why are you trying to ruin my life?" Raven shrugged. "We're not, we're helping." And if the way she smiled so innocently didn't melt Erik's heart every time, he might have let out a long string of curse words. In both German and English.

"How," Erik bit out slowly, "exactly are you 'helping'?"

"Well, mom told us to-" Raven started. One of Erik's hands flew up and the other pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know what, just stop right there—I don't even want to know."

Somewhere, Emma is laughing evilly with a martini in her hand, Erik just knew it.

…

"Charles, you can't be serious," Hank said for like the tenth time since Charles retreated back to his cabin, and no the man wasn't hiding. "We don't even know this guy and for all we know he might be a criminal. You heard the way his children talked about him." What was Hank talking about? It got even better after he left…

"I know Hank," Charles said, pinching his own nose as he shook his head. He looked up at the taller man. "But I don't know what else to do. He's our only chance of going—there's no one else to fill in and the bus leaves in less than an hour. You really want to go out there and tell all the children that we can go camping because Camp Counselor Angel has…"female issues"," Charles said with air quotes—yes: fucking air quotes. He sighed. "How bad is she anyways? Did you talk to her at least?" Charles asked.

Hank had a flashback to twenty minutes ago…

"_Get the fuck out of here Hank!"_ Complete with a box of tampons flying at his head. _Hmm, she may need those_, Hank thought as he made his hasty retreat from Angel's room.

"Yeah," Hank said as he looked at Charles, "she's in no condition to come along… but I still don't know about this Erik guy—he gives me the willies. What about you? You're normally good at reading people. What do you think of him?"

A small blush crept onto Charles' face, betraying him solely. He looked down as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, um…" Hank's eyes widen. "Oh, oh my god…you…you-" he pointed at Charles, "-you have the hots for him!"

"Hank, please," Charles chided him in a hushed voice; he looked around. "It's nothing like that, I swear." Shaking his head, this is where Hank disagreed. "Oh no, it's _exactly_ like that. This is going be the Steve Rodgers episode all over again." A pause. "Isn't it?" Hank mumbled as he buried his face in his hands at the hilarious (terrifying; depending on whom you ask) memory.

Charles thought for a moment. "Ah yes, I remember him…" Charles looked off in thought. "His kids don't come here anymore, do they?"

"Not since the canoe incident," Hank said flatly. Ah yes, the canoe incident. What a lovely day that was.

"Well in my defense, we had no idea his kids were watching behind that tree and we almost pulled it off!" Charles said, and no he did not cross his arms over his chest and huff. Hank had a sudden thought… but he knew it was a bad one. "What about Moira?" He asked quietly. "You could always ask-" oh boy that was a nasty look Charles was shooting him, maybe Hank should shut up now.

Moira, dear sweet Moira, was one of the people who would tell you that the "Steve Rodgers canoe" incident was indeed, fucking terrifying. It was _not_ the way she wanted to find out her husband was gay... or sleeping with her boss.

"I am NOT asking Moira to come back, and if you seemed to have forgotten, she quit on me shortly after "the canoe incident" unfolded." He paused, looking away. "She also threw a dead squirrel at me in the process…" Charles said as he recounted the memory.

"I still can't believe she had a dead squirrel in her room," Hank said as he too thought back to last summer.

"I think she was saving it for someone else." Charles pointed out and- -when the heck did the conversation go to hell?

Charles shook his head. "Anyways, back to the task at hand. I'm not asking Moira for help and there's really no one else this short noticed, so…I think we're stuck with Alex and Raven's father." He gave Hank a beseeching look. "He can't be that bad." Charles wasn't sure who he was trying to convince. "Let's just give him a chance. I really don't want to have to break the children's hearts by telling them we can't go." He smiled his famous Charles smile at Hank.

A defeated sigh left the taller male and his shoulders slumped. "I guess we have no other choice then."

A victory smile flashed over Charles' face, and he was not at all secretly excited about spending the weekend alone in the woods with this mysterious, good-looking stranger, that had to have a bad boy side to him.

Charles liked bad boys.

Men! He liked fucking _men_—not boys—Jesus Christ; he was a camp counselor after all...

Hank shot him a warning look. "Alright, but if this turns into the Steve Rodgers canoe incident again—I'm quitting." Charles watched as Hank turned and started to leave his room. He smiled. Good, at least he didn't say anything about the-

"Or the Tony Stark and the campfire/marshmallows incident!" Hank hollered over his shoulder.

Damn it, Charles didn't think he remembered that one. _He_ hardly remembered that one. Marshmallows... marshmallows should not go there.

…

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?" Logan said into his cellphone around a mouth full of cigar.

Erik rubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead as he closed his eyes. Jesus Christ, when did his life become this? "Just...please Logan, feed the damn cat while I'm gone. I don't have time to explain." Nor did he want to. Laughing would be involved, on Logan's end.

"I hate that damn cat," Logan grunted. He took his cigar out of his mouth and replaced it with a beer bottle, taking a quick, yet efficient, drink. "Isn't it Emma's damn cat anyway?" He asked after.

Crushing the pack of cigarettes in his hand, Erik fought the urge to curse at his oldest friend. "You know that fucking cat is Emma's (and there's no way that Erik hasn't given it back yet just to piss his ex-wife off, even if that means making his own life miserable by having to live with the stinking feline), would you just feed the damn thing while I'm gone?" It's the least the man could do after all the 'creative' things he's taught Erik's children to do over the past few years (_"Life lessons Erik; life lessons,"_ as Logan had put it). Not to mention the fact that he's sleeping on Erik's couch and has been for the past fifteen years. It's a wonder Emma didn't leave sooner.

Feeling a tug on his pants, Erik looked down to see his daughter—the most scarred of his children by Logan. "Daddy? Could you please tell uncle Logan not to sleep in my bed while we're gone? Last time he did that the next day at school I had to go to the counselors because my teacher said I smelled like bar."

Ah yes, Erik remembered that quite fondly. That was an interesting parent teacher meeting.

Emma was less than pleased needless to say.

"Erik! Ya hear me?" came from Erik's phone and he snapped back to the present. "What? Sorry, I missed that Logan." Erik said into phone.

"I said: what the fuck? What happened to our weekend? I thought we were going gambling." Logan said as he chopped his foul smelling cigar back into his mouth.

Shaking Raven off his leg, Erik mouthed down to her: "Alright, I'll tell him sweetheart", then said to his friend (who's probably the real reason why he's divorced): "Sorry man, just…something came up." Something cute, brunet, and oh-so-fuckable.

There was a silent moment and Erik swore he could hear the smile forming over the man's mouth from the other line. The bastard.

"What's her name?" Logan questioned and- -yes- -Erik could very much 'hear' that smug bastard smiling. Erik looked around for a moment before popping a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. "Not a "her"," he informed his friend.

"No smoking on camp grounds," someone shouted and Erik cursed as he stomped his cigarette out. Well fuck.

"Him?" Logan mussed, and now Erik could feel the man's humor. "I didn't know you went back over to that side. Especially after the "Principal's office incident"." He said with a chuckle.

"Hey," Erik snapped into the phone. "In my defense, I didn't know those kids were around and we almost got away with it!"

"You were at a fucking school, Lehnsherr. How did you not know there were children present?" Logan practically laughed into the phone at the memory. "And didn't you get that poor sap fired after all that?" He questioned, still laughing. The _jerk_.

"At least I didn't have an affair with the Mayor's _wife_," Erik shot back as he recalled Logan's "Fountain at the Ballroom incident". Yeah, Logan didn't think he'd bring that one up, did he?

Also, apparently everyone has a fucking "incident" around here. Christ.

"I still don't even know how I got in there. I didn't even have a ticket to the event and I sure as shit wasn't "black tie optional"." Logan smirked as he thought back to the event. He was more like "flannel shirt optional".

Erik shook out another cig and popped it into his mouth and- -when did this conversation head so south? "So, will you feed the damn cat then?" he said as he lit up.

"No smoking!" was yelled again, followed by a smaller, suspicious voice, that sounded a lot like his son's. "It will make your penis sad!"

Taking a long drag before flicking his cig away, Erik blew smoke into the phone— he wished it would somehow hit Logan in the face, then again; the man would probably like that seeing how he fucking sleeps with that damn cigar in his mouth at night— Erik swears he's seen him sleep smoking before.

Fucking sleep smoking!

"Logan!" Erik snapped into the phone. "Will you feed the damn cat?"

"Huh?" Logan grunted into the phone. "Sorry, thinking about the Mayor's wife again," he muttered. How the fuck DID he get into that event? "Yeah, yeah, I'll feed the fucking cat." A pause. "What do you feed it anyways; like fish or some shit like that?"

Erik slapped his forehead. This weekend better be worth it goddamn it.

TBC


	2. The Bus Incident

**A/N: Nothing but silliness people**.

"Five minutes everyone. The bus leaves in five minutes," Hank called out to the fellow campers. He caught Erik's eye. "With or without you," he added dryly.

Hank's a fucking funny guy, Erik concluded, the dweeb. Although he also may be an obstacle. He doesn't seem to keen on leaving Charles' side.

Erik may have to do something about that.

Looks like it's time to pull the old fireworks in the tent routine.

What the fuck? How old are you Lehnsherr? Try and set a better example for your kids damn it. Logan was already doing a great enough job screwing them up— and thank you very much Logan for teaching Alex how to make a shank from a potato— Erik's sure that will really come in handy one day…

Luckily for Erik, Charles was making his way up to the taller man with a smile and —oh good; he didn't check Erik's criminal record. Yet. "Erik," he said politely, "as soon as we get loaded I'll get you introduced to the rest of the group. I'm sure they'll all be wondering why you're here and not Angel. Also, seeing how you came unprepared and, thank you again for volunteering, you have no idea how grateful I am, I have packed some spare supplies for you," _exceeeept._"Except-" he chuckled nervously and looked away, "-it would appear that we don't have a spare tent…" and he almost went as far as saying "sleeping bag", but he figured not to push his luck. Yet. "So, if it's alright with you, I was thinking that we could sha-"

"He can have my tent, Charles. You and I can share." Ah, thank you so bloody much Hank—way to be the world's biggest cock-blocker, and it's not as if Charles went through the hassle of hiding all the spare tents or anything. Hell, he even had half a mind to burn the bloody things just for good measures, but he thought that might be a bit on the brash side (just a bit.) That and, the sight of him frantically throwing tents onto a blazing fire was not one that people needed to see.

It would've probably been dubbed: The tents a blazing incident, (Or even better yet: The one where Charles lost his fucking mind_._)

Coming back into reality, Charles turned and threw Hank a look and— what that look had meant, Hank wasn't sure; but he was suddenly very fearful of his camp buddy.

"Thank you Hank, I appreciate that," Charles said dryly without adding: you goddamn cock-blocker. It was hard, not to add that.

Putting his hands up, Erik shook his head. "Look, I don't want to put anyone out or make them have to share tents. Don't worry about me, I'll just crash outside, preferable by the fire." Bears don't like fires, he's been told. Either that or they are attracted to fire. He doesn't remember. Oh well. Death by bear. Same thing as death by Logan. Either way, it's how he's going out. He's also been told.

Back to Charles:

A sudden and "hilarious" campfire/marshmallows memory (incident) floated into his head and he had to turn away to conceal his blush. In the background, Hank just rolled his eyes.

Hank knew, he just knew.

"Alright everyone, on the bus," Hank warned one last time and tried to think of a way to leave without Erik...

He had nothing.

…

Charles wobbled back and forth as the bus took off down the gravelly road. He tried his best to stand but nearly ended up face first in Erik's lap (not that he would've really minded thank you very much) when the bus hit a particularly nasty pothole.

The bus driver just snickered and Hank briefly wondered if Charles put a little more effort into "the fall" than necessary. Another eye roll was surely in order here.

"Oh, thank you Erik," Charles said as the older man helped him get back to his feet and out of his crotch (not that Erik minded at all, thank you very much). "No problem Charles," Erik murmured with a sultry smile, causing Charles to blush.

Somewhere from the back of the bus Alex slapped his forehead with a "why me?", while Raven just looked confused. Charles cleared his throat and began his Camp Speech.

"Children, as most of you all know, this is our third annual camping trip, and I'm glad to see so many familiar faces back again with us this year-"

"That's because we had no choice!" Someone yelled from the back of the bus.

Heckling—they were heckling Charles.

"Ah. Thank you Sean; always good to see you again too," Charles said before continuing on. Lie: it was a lie. Charles couldn't stand that little-

"Anyways, rules are the same as always: please be respectful to mother nature _—_not a word about my mother, Sean_—_ and do not wander off without your camping buddy or your chaperon, who will be assigned as soon as we get to camp. And safety first people, always remember that; a safe trip is a happy trip. We will have one day of events and hiking followed by everyone's favorite: the canoe trip_—_ not a word Hank___—_ and then we head back Sunday evening after all the fun." If no one gets chased up a tree by a bear this year of course. Charles swallowed. "Are there any questions?"

"Where's Angel?" Someone yelled, probably young Darwin, he seemed to have developed a bit of a crush on her last year and Charles had to break it to him that it would not be appropriate for her to date a ten year old. He was upset, but this year he seemed like the confident eleven year old that he was… too bad Charles would still have to explain to him that the age difference is a problem.

"Ah, thank you for pointing that out Darwin. While unfortunately Angel couldn't be here with us this time, we were lucky enough to have Mr. Lehnsherr volunteer to fill in for her." Charles looked at Erik just in time to see him pop a cigarette between his lips. Charles slapped it out of his mouth with a quick flick of his wrist and said: "Erik, please stand up so that the children can all meet you."

Grumbling about the cost of cigarettes these days (five frigging dollars a pack!), Erik rose to his feet. He looked around the bus at all the small faces. "Hey," he said, noncommittally.

The children all stared at him for a moment before some smart ass broke the silence.

"Is he your "special friend" this year, Camp Counselor Charles?"

WHAT!?

Charles' eyes went impossibly wide as the bus driver full out laughed with his head tipping back (thank you very much Azazel) and Hank just buried his face in his hands muttering something about "every year it gets worse".

Alex punched Bobby in the arm with a "Hey! That's my dad. What's wrong with you?" Bobby cried out an "Ow!" as he rubbed his arm and Charles reminded Alex that there was to be no violence this year.

Next year… perhaps.

"He's got a point though Triple C," Sean, such a smart ass for a twelve year old, said. And there's no way this could possibly get any worse… "What about last year, when you brought that Steve Rodgers guy? You said he was your special friend."

And it just got worse.

"I told you that in confidence," Charles mumbled as his face went to his hands, and why did Charles trust young people? (Well it's not as if he had a choice in the matter, Sean did walk up on them making-out heavily behind a tree, so Charles had to tell the young man something so that he wouldn't take off running and yelling: Camp Counselor Charles and Steve are wrestling! Everyone come see. Place your bets now."

"I thought Steve was Moira's "special friend"," an eight year old Kitty supplied, and it wasn't as if Charles was being ganged up on by a bunch of kids or anything. He suddenly wanted to grab the wheel and drive them all off a cliff.

Back to reality:

Charles turned to Erik. "I'm so sorry, they're not normally like this," he said quietly as his face reddened more.

"Nyet! They're worse," the bus driver laughed. "I swear," he said in his thick Russian accent, "they get funnier every year. Especially that ginger topped one; I'm going to miss him next year when he's too old to come."

Giving the driver a dry look, Charles just replied, "Thank you for that Azazel. Try not to encourage them, hm?" He looked back to Erik with an apologetic look (and it was positively adorable, Erik couldn't help but think) before readdressing the bus full of tiny hecklers. "Alright children, back to business— No, Mr. Lehnsherr and I are not "special friends" and I'd-"

"Why not?" Floated up from the back of the bus.

_Alright, who's the funny guy now?_

Charles nearly popped a vein in his forehead. He was about to lose it when he felt a calm hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Erik standing behind him, a fond smile on his face. He motioned for Charles to sit down. "I got this Charles, relax and take a seat," he said gently to the shorter, stressed out man.

Charles sat heavily while Erik threw a sharky grin towards all the young children before him. "Now tell me children, have any of you ever been to prison before?"

All the tiny heads shook side to side.

"Good, because I just so happen to have a friend that worked at one for twenty years, so let me share with you some of the stories he told me…"

Alex leaned into Raven and whispered: "Great, dad's bragging about uncle Logan again."

One eerily silent fucking bus ride later, they pulled up to their destination. The kids all got off the bus with nary-a-peep; blank looks on their faces and unblinking eyes. (Jesus Christ, what did that man do to them?) Well, except for Sean of course, who thought it was the _fucking greatest story he's ever heard_ and couldn't wait until he could try and make his own homemade tattoo gun from a bic pen and a toothbrush.

What the fuck has Erik done to _him_? Was more like it.

Charles wore his own expression of bewilderment (but also excited arousal) as he approached Erik, all while Hank was mouthing in the background: "I told you this guy was bad news. Why do you always fall for the-"

"So," Charles said, watching as Erik started to help unload the bus of equipment, "that was an… interesting bus ride least to say." And not at all scarring or damaging to young children's minds…

Erik smirked and handed Charles a sleeping bag. "Got them to be quiet the rest of the trip, didn't it?"

Trying (and failing) to hide his own smile, Charles took the sleeping bag from the taller man. "Well yes, but I found it hardly necessary to go into detail about "rival gang members" and "taking down the toughest guy in the yard" and, my favorite: "making someone your bitch"." He paused, swallowing. "Does that stuff really happen in prison?" Charles questioned with a high voice.

Ah—poor sweet naive Charles—Erik found him so adorable.

…

Once camp was set up and Hank was attempting to start a fire ("No, not that way Hank, you need to dump gasoline all over it if you want to get it roaring," John had supplied ever so helpfully for a nine year old. Charles begun to understand why they nicknamed him "Pyro" and started to think that the boy's parents dropped him off at camp every year for other reasons than the camp time festivities) while Charles called everyone around to sort them into groups for each adult to supervise.

That's just what Erik needed in his life; more kids to be held accountable for…at least Logan wasn't with them…

"Alright, so Erik, you'll be responsible for Alex and Raven of course, and how about…" Charles looked around the group. "Sean." He smiled at the boy, then Erik. Erik shot him a dry look to which Charles shot him back a _last year he's here—I've had my fill_ look.

He's pretty sure Erik got the gist of it.

"I myself will take Darwin, Scott and Kitty, and that leaves Hank with Bobby, John and Anna Marie."

Hank did a two finger solute to show he was listening and then turned back to the non-starting fire before yelling: "John! Get away from the bus's gas tank! And put that hose back where you found it!"

"It will work! I promise." Came a tiny voice from the side of the bus. Charles winced as Hank stormed off towards the young fire lover. He turned to Erik. "So-" he smiled, "-you think you're up for this?"

Grinning even wider, and possibly a bit on the suggestive side, Erik cocked an eyebrow. "I'm up for a lot of things... _Triple C_," Erik added with a wink.

"Oh Lord, you heard that," Charles said quietly as he looked down with an embarrassed smile and a head shake. _Damn you Sean._ Charles would have shook his fist at the boy if he weren't positive he'd look like a raving lunatic in front of the hunk of a man before him. But Erik just tipped Charles' head back up by his chin and surprised the younger man with a: "I did, and I thought it was kind of cute."

Charles' face filtered through three shades of pink before settling on deep red. Oh my, it was suddenly very hot out there. Did Hank get that fire going finally?

"Uh, Charles," Hank (speak of the devil) said (ruining the moment). "Could I get a little help over here? Two of my kids are trying to 'help' start the fire for me, one with gasoline and the other with a can of bug spray. I really need a second hand, please, before I just throw them all into the fire myself."

Hm, Hank seemed tense, Charles noted.

Sighing, he shot Erik a 'later' look and turned to aid Hank with his kiddie crisis. Erik heard Charles shout a: "Bobby! Put those cans down!" and "Azazel! Stop showing John how to siffen gas with a hose, he's too bloody young for that!" as the man disappeared.

A small chuckle escaped Erik as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and popped one into his mouth.

"Daddy?"

Startled, Erik flung the cigarette out of his mouth and across the woods just in time to turn and see Raven blinking up at him. She smiled. "Are you really going to stay the whole weekend with us?" Erik kneeled down so he was eye level with his daughter. "Of course I am, love, why do you ask?"

Shrugging, Raven twisted to the side a bit as any eight year old would, her long blonde curls sliding over her shoulders. "I dunno, I was just surprised is all. You seemed very excited to have the weekend free, or with uncle Logan, that is."

Uncle Logan. Erik swears he tried to pry that out of his kid's heads every night, and goddamn Logan, it doesn't help the matter that the man had a hat made with just that name on it. The jerk.

"Of course I'm excited to be here with you guys, why wouldn't I be? You're my kids, there's nowhere else I'd rather be," Erik said as he looked over just in time to see Charles bending over to enter his pup tent.

Well…

"Dad?" Raven said, and brought him out of his stalker stare. "Is uncle Logan going to have some more of his 'special lady friends' over? Because last time he did, one of them stole my necklace, and I'm still upset about it." She said with a pout.

Hmm, and now, how does one go about approaching this subject delicately to an eight year old without scarring her for life?

"Well, you see darling, what happened there was what we would call: a transaction gone wrong. You see, your uncle Logan, the cheapskate that he is, didn't have enough money to-"

"Erik?" Charles came from out of nowhere and said, and dear Lord in Heaven, how much of that did he hear?

"Run along Raven, we'll talk more about it later," Erik said with a pat to her head before he stood up to meet Charles. Charles cocked his head to the side and studied the taller man for a moment as Raven skipped off merrily. "Were you just trying to explain to your eight year old daughter how prostitution works?"

"I left out the part about the pimp…" Erik said sheepishly and then: "God, you must think I'm an awful parent." He shook his head and looked away.

Charles was silent for a moment, until: "No," he said slowly, "I just think you're misguided—you don't get to spend a lot of time with your kids, do you?" He asked kindly.

Shaking his head, Erik looked to the ground. "No, not really—every other weekend is all." And when he does have them he has a hilarious "uncle Logan" to make things worse (although the man does try at least, Erik has to give him credit there. It just doesn't help that Logan doesn't have a goddamn mouth filter).

"Well," Charles spoke with a small smile, "that's not very much time at all, that's hardly fair to you. I could see where your inexperience comes from." He touched Erik's upper arm gently, letting his hand linger on the spot.

Hot—Erik's arm suddenly felt hot, and he was afraid he might melt into a puddle right there on the ground from Charles touching him. Ridiculous, is what it was.

"Yes well, thank you for being so kind about it. Most people just take one look at me and stamp an "unfit father" sticker on my forehead after they talk to me and then walk away."

Charles looked over to where Hank was. "Yes, I can understand that," he said softly and then looked back to Erik. "I think you're a good man, Erik. I just think you need a little guidance with your children is all. Maybe learn to set some boundaries on what can and can't be said around them." He cocked an eyebrow. "And maybe even limit the use of… "ladies of the evening", when your children are around."

"That would be mainly Logan's doing," Erik said quickly. "I'm not much of a 'ladies' man myself anymore." After Emma. Charles gave a small knowing smile. "Is that so, now? Well, then maybe it's time you had a talk with this 'friend' of yours about the terms and conditions of entertaining such events when you have your children over."

Erik just stared at the camp counselor for a moment.

Huh? Who talks like that? Just fucking say: tell Logan not to be an asswipe and have any hookers over when the kids are around. How hard was that?

…

Later, after the kids had all settled down a bit and everyone had eaten dinner (ick, hotdogs on a stick; how original. Erik was less than impressed. He'll stick with his cups of microwavable soup and frozen waffles every night for dinner thank you very much. What? It's either that or Logan's "what's in this casserole surprise", and the 'surprise' varied from night to night, including but not limited to: eggshells, meat gone bad, leftover "what's in this casserole surprise, surprise" (that's right: it's a double fucking surprise that night), unidentifiable vegetables, and don't forget that one time; goddamn cat food. (_"What? It comes in these fucking little fancy cans, how was I supposed to know it wasn't human food?"_ as Logan had said, and good, that's always comforting to know that the picture of a cat on the can did nothing to deter the man from using it.), Erik had wandered off, while Hank and Charles told the kids ghost stories and roasted marshmallows (and for some reason, every time someone said the word "marshmallow", Charles blushed. Erik wanted to look more into that), hoping to find a quite spot.

Erik snuck around the side of the bus and popped a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it quickly. Fucking finally.

"Dat smoking, it vill kill you," came a voice.

_Jesus._

Jumping, Erik flicked the cigarette out of his mouth and onto the ground where he stepped on it. Goddamn, at this rate he'd be out of fags by the end of the night. He turned to see who it was that startled him.

Ah, just the creepy Russian bus driver and, if Erik recalled correctly, he had quite a sense of humor too.

"Fuck Azazel, you scared me," Erik said.

The man came closer and smiled. "If it is an outlet you desire," he said looking down at Erik's broken cigarette, "then try _this_." He looked back up at Erik and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a flask.

Erik's eyebrows shot up. "Really? You really carry a flask on you, and you're a bus driver for kids?" Fucking seriously? "That can't be good," Erik mumbled. Maybe Hank was worried about the wrong lunatic.

Azazel waved a dismissive hand. "Nyet, not for me comrade, I don't drink," he came a little closer. "But I do always carry this on me for these types of trips." He looked off towards the campfire. "Sooner or later, I knew someone vould need it." He always thought it would be Charles though.

Taking the flask from the bus driver's hand, Erik twisted the cap off and smelt what was inside. He looked up at the Russian. "So… you're telling me that you've been carry around vodka in the same flask for three years now, just waiting for someone to need it?"

Azazel nodded.

Erik looked at the man for a moment, dubiously.

And then took a swig.

What an odd fellow this Azazel guy was.

…

Erik made his way through the dark woods, which probably wasn't a good idea considering: 1) He had no idea where the fuck he was going, 2) he was supposed to be in charge of three kids; two being his own, but more importantly: 3) he was walking around buzzed with an almost empty flask of vodka.

All things that when put together will be hilarious when they hit the evening news that night.

Erik climbed (sort of stumbled) up the cliff he was determined to conquer and felt around for his phone and, thank god, he had one bar of service. It was all he needed. All he had to do was stand very still and not move and he'd probably be able to make at least one phone call.

It was ringing, thank god it was ringing.

"Hey fucktard, where'd ya put my rash cream," was the first thing that Logan had said to Erik, followed by: "Have you tapped that camp counselor's sweet ass yet?"

Jesus fucking Christ, Erik wasn't sure which obscenity he wanted to tackle first.

So he settled for a: "What the fuck Logan?" He needed more vodka for this phone call.

"Oh hey, more importantly," Logan spoke into the phone around his cigar, "you got my leather jacket, don't ya, you fuckshit?"

Erik looked down. Yep, wearing one leather jacket that wasn't his, check. "Yeah, why? I told you I was borrowing it." Stealing it, same thing.

A series of grunts and grumbles came from the other end and Erik wasn't sure when they'd switched to caveman style of communication. "Fucking great," Logan said, "looks like it's your lucky day Lehnsherr—I had something "special" I was saving for later in the breast pocket of that coat—guess it's all yours now." Logan chuckled. "You'll probably need it more than me anyways." A pause, in which Logan probably took a puff of cigar. "How are all the fucking little kiddies anyhow?"

"Fine," Erik mumbled, curious now as he reached his hand in the coat pocket and found the mystery item Logan was going on about.

A smile crossed over Erik's face.

It was just what he needed to get through the weekend. "Logan, my friend," Erik said into the phone with a vicious smile, "I owe you big time man." He studied the item in his hand. "Oh, and did you feed Snowflake?"

A pause.

"Who the fuck is Snowflake?" Logan asked.

Jesus F Crispy.

Erik put his special item back in his coat pocket carefully before addressing the moron on the other end. "The cat! The damn cat—Christ, how long have you lived with me? The damn cat's name is Snowflake you assclown—how did you not know that?" Fuck, it's like living with a child.

And seriously, the cat's only white as shit, kind of hard to miss.

Wait…white as shit?…that wouldn't be right…

The sound of a beer bottle being tossed in the trashcan (or a pile— godforbid Logan uses a trashcan— there's probably a goddamn pile in the corner somewhere by now) came from the other end. "Oh, yeah, yeah—I fed the damn cat…Snowblow, or whatever."

"Snowflake." Erik corrected, and really didn't see why he did so; Logan would just fucking forget again by the morning… or within the next hour, depending upon beer consumption.

"Whatever; same thing. I gave it some of the left over casserole. Seemed to enjoy it." Logan grunted and grabbed another beer from the fridge. Erik sat down on the mountain he scaled (okay, so it was a fucking small cliff and he climbed it; big deal. It was more work than he planned on doing that entire weekend (unless you count screwing camp counselor Charles, work)). "You fed the cat "what's in this casserole surprise"? Are you fucking serious?" A pause. "Did it _die_ yet?" And Erik probably shouldn't have sounded so hopeful.

Logan smirked with a laugh. "No, the damn thing loved it—I think it was the one I accidently made with the cat food that one time." One time? Try twice, but more importantly:

"What the fuck? You kept the cat food casserole around? What the hell is wrong with you Logan? Why didn't you pitch it?" Erik said, hoping the man wasn't seriously planning on reserving cat food casserole surprise to his kids one day as he tipped back the rest of his flask and…aw..it was empty.

Logan shrugged. "What? It froze well."

Erik wasn't even going to try and decipher what the shit that had meant so he just moved on. "Anyways, to answer your first question: your rash cream is in my bathroom; top drawer to the left. I moved it because Raven found it and asked why does uncle Logan put this on his-... you know what, it's not important what she said, and to answer your next lewd question, as much as it isn't any of your damn business, no, I haven't "tapped that camp counselor's sweet ass" yet. Jesus Christ Logan, it hasn't even been a full day yet (not to mention the fact that they're fucking on a goddamn camping trip with kids. Kids!) what kind of person do you think I am?—Don't answer that."

The smirk that Logan had on his face was priceless; it really was a shame that Erik couldn't be there to see it. "What kind of person did I think you are? Are you shitting me? I was just thinking about the time that-"

Okay! No more "incident" stories. Erik had had _enough_.

"Good bye Logan," Erik said as he snapped his phone shut and almost hurled it off into the wild blue yonder. Almost.

A quick "fuck you too, buddy" came from the other end before Erik's phone shut. He looked off into the distance for a moment before reaching back into his coat pocket to retrieve what Raven calls: daddy's potpourri cigarettes, which, he doesn't even know why she calls them that; they smell nothing of flower petals and spices.

He smiled.

Now all he needed was one Camp Counselor Charles and his night would be complete.

TBC


	3. The Weed Incident

Gracefully, Erik started on this way back down the deep and dangerous mountain he'd scaled earlier.

Until his buzzed ass tripped on a rock and tumbled down the rest of the way. Good thing it was just a small cliff after all. Although he will be telling the "revised" version of the story that took place that night; mountain, it was a fucking mountain he climbed.

And the falling part never happened either.

Once Erik came to stop, and thank god for that; he was starting to feel slightly nauseated (damn Russian and his vodka), he sat straight up and looked around.

Well, that was fucking briefly terrifying.

Making his way back to his feet, though he didn't entirely trust those either, he found his way back to camp.

That was his first mistake (no, actually, his first bloody mistake was agreeing (volunteering asshole) to go on this trip).

Shouting and commotion could be heard and echoed its way through the woods, and great, any moment now a big fucking hungry bear was sure to show up with all this ruckus.

Maybe if Erik's quick enough, he could cover that mouthy Sean kid's ass in some honey.

Erik blamed the vodka for that particular evil thought.

Just coming up through the brush, Erik heard what sounded like Camp Counselor Charles trying to regain order.

"No John! Put that down. Sean, gives those back to Hank!"

Erik had a brief thought of just turning back from where he came from; he'll take his chances in the dark, bear infested woods thank you very much.

"Oh Erik! Thank god," Charles said as he jogged over to where Erik had emerging from. Charles gave him a quick once over and decided not to ask about the twigs and leafs in his hair, but instead filed it away for later questioning; he had more dire things on his mind right now. "I've been looking all over for you—the kids have gone mad and Hank's freaking out without his glass." Charles turned his head back around and yelled at Sean: "I am serious Sean, give Hank his glasses back. You know the man needs them." Sean just stayed in the safety of the tree branch he was perched up on and stuck his tongue out at Charles with Hank's glasses on his face. Really? Fucking mature Sean.

Charles turned back to Erik with a look of sheer panic on his face, and Jesus, the man really needed to calm down a bit, Erik thought. If only Erik had something to help Charles relax a bit…_Oh_. Erik smiled.

"I swear these kids get worse and worse every year. Sean won't give Hank's glasses back, Bobby's tormenting the girls with bugs and John's running around with a gas can, THANK YOU VERY MUCH AZAZEL." The bus driver just gave Charles a two fingered salute with a smirk.

Charles seemed frazzled, Erik concluded. He stared at the man for a moment, and really, what did Charles want him to do? It wasn't his camp, he wasn't an employee. Did Charles want him to tell the kids more "jail time fun" stories?

If only Logan were here—that would help.

Wait, Logan…Erik smiled. He suddenly remembered the little present that Logan had left him. Perfect. That would calm Charles the hell down. Although, Erik's not sure if Charles has ever smoked anything in his entire life, and judging by the man's attire (really, nice shorts Charles) that was probably a big fat no.

He'll work around that later, first he needed to get these kids calmed the fuck down. He stepped past Charles and assessed the situation… it looked bad.

Fuck it, Erik's seen worse.

He cleared his throat before yelling the following:

"Sean! If you don't give Hank his glasses back I will make you spend the night on the bus with the creepy Russian bus driver who may or may not drive off a cliff in the middle of the night-" Azazel did another two fingered salute with a smile towards Sean this time. "Bobby! If you don't get those bugs away from the girls I will personally make you eat every single one of them, including the millipedes." Bobby dropped the June bug that was currently in his hand. "And John! You are _not_ the fire starter; Prodigy is, so I'd suggest you stop saying that before they sue you for copyright infringement."

Wait…what? Did that make any sense? Oh well it didn't matter because John dropped the gas can and now all the kids were wide eyed and looking at Erik with shut mouths.

Good—just what Erik was going for—frightened children. He turned to Charles with a smile.

"You. Are. A. _God_," Charles said/praised as he looked at Erik fondly.

Also, Erik wanted credit for not dropping a single goddamn profanity—would it have been Logan, they'd all be staring at him wide mouthed and with a newly learned set of vocabulary skills.

Also, he wanted credit or being able to do all that while half buzzed, thank you very much Russian creeper.

Turning back to the children, Erik shouted one last parting gift. "Alright! I've seen enough of your ugly mugs. Get in your tents and get to sleep before I tell you all about the time I spent at Eden Lake—it will have you all crying and pissing your pants before the stories even over."

Alex and Raven were the first ones to head back for their tents, they've heard the Eden Lake story before—they don't need to relive that again.

All the other kids slowly filed out and made their way to their tents, grumbling and complaining about what a jerk Charles' "new special friend" was. Ha, ha, Sean, you've made your point, you can drop it now.

"I cannot thank you enough," Charles said as he turned to face the God of a man before him. Greek God, Charles couldn't help but to think. Just look at that chiseled jaw and muscular arms and, one can't help but wonder how he looked with a shirt off; probably all tan and lean and…

Oops, Charles has a chubby—better stop now.

"It's fine Charles," Erik said as he put a hand on the shorter man's shoulder, and, oh god; Erik's touching him.

Goodbye chubby, hello full fleshed boner.

"Excuse me please," Charles said as he stepped out of Erik's touch (and it hurt to do so, it really did—his shoulder was screaming in protest to go back and continue to let the hunk of a man touch him some more, but his penis was too busy being ashamed) and made a bee-line to... well, _anywhere_. He couldn't very well let the other man see him in such condition. Lord knows Charles doesn't need any more 'indecent' stories, especially not any that start with: "Charles' boner", and ends with: "scarring children at camp".

Erik watched as Charles disappeared hastily into his tent, and winced when that was followed up by a shrieking voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like Hank's, only a few falsettos higher than normal. "Dear Lord Charles! What is wrong with you?"

Deciding that he really didn't want to know, Erik made his way back over to the bus to give Charles some time with…whatever the fuck was wrong with him. He found Azazel, who was leaning against the side of the bus, looking as shifty as one could while hanging around a camp ground full of kids. Erik decided not to put too much thought into it and tried not to wonder why the guy was sticking around the entire weekend—didn't he have other bus driver stuff to do?

"Here," Erik said as he tossed Azazel the empty flask, "thanks for the buzz." He said sincerely and then asked: "Why 'are' you still here? Shouldn't you be off driving kids to school?" He thought about that for a moment. "Or transporting inmates to prison?" Was more likely of the two.

Azazel shook his head. "Na, I stay here the whole weekend too," he said as he came out of the shadows (seriously, Erik should have just sent Azazel over to scare the crap out of the kiddies—Erik was finding himself a bit frightened at the moment too). "I'm their only modes of transportation. What if something were to happen? (God-for-bid another "bear incident") Better to be safe (that's debatable with a character like him) than sorry," the Russian said with an eerie smirk.

Erik had a quick image flash through his head of Azazel in his next life: transporting people to hell in his bus for Satan, wearing that exact smile.

What the fuck?—Erik wasn't even high yet.

Still, the image was unsettling, but suited the man well. The only thing that would've made it better is if the man was red and had a pointy tail—he'd probably be laughing manically as he drove the bus straight into hell too, like he _enjoyed_ it.

What the shit? Seriously Erik?

Thinking back to what the driver had said about being the only mode of transportation, Erik had to give it to him that that was a legitimate enough reason to be sticking around for the whole weekend. He felt less paranoid about his children's wellbeing and leaned against the bus as he took out his pack of smokes, and popped one into his mouth.

"Erik?" Came Charles' voice, and Erik flipped his cigarette out of his mouth and cursed as it fell to the ground and landed in the only goddamn puddle within 100 yards of them. God fucking damn it. Erik snapped his head up to meet Charles' gaze. "You okay now, Charles?" Erik questioned, still mourning the loss of his cig.

Taking in a deep breath, Charles exhaled out of his mouth slowly as he spoke. "Yes, all better, and thanks again for handling the kids like that for me. I swear, normally I can take care of things but this year they just seemed to have gotten more and more destructive, and poor Hank is helpless without his eyes, darn Sean. I knew he'd figure that out one of this years. At least it was during his last one here." Charles mouthed a silent "thank God" as he looked up to the Heavens.

Erik was starting to like Charles even more as the day progressed. The man might have a sick sense of humor after all.

"Charles, my friend," Erik said as he slung an arm around the smaller man's shoulders (and Charles did 'not' have to suppress a shiver). "I think I have just the thing that will help you relax," he said with an Azazel grin as he started to lead the soon-to-be-corrupted Camp Counselor away from the Russian's ferry to Hell. Really, Azazel would make a killing.

"My comrade," Azazel said, catching Erik's attention before he got too far, "for you and the boy scout." The Russian tossed Erik the flask back and, hm, it was full again, Erik realized the second it landed in his hand.

Azazel was one shifty mother fucker.

Erik liked him.

Azazel heard Charles squeak out something that sounded suspiciously like "is that a flask?" but just chuckled to himself as Erik dragged the counselor away.

…

"Take it easy with that thing, Charles," Erik said as he smirked, watching Charles knock the flash back for like the fifth time in two minutes. "That's not even the star of the party." He chuckled at Charles' cute "wince" face after the swig.

Lightweight.

Now, Erik 'would' have felt like a terrible guy because, for real, what kind of fucktard gets a goddamn camp counselor drunk and high whilst on a camping trip with kids? Fucking seriously now Erik (he just reserved his seat on Azazel's bus to Hell). But, he didn't, and thank you Logan for years of morally corrupting the man; what would we have done without you?

"Now Charles," Erik said as he reached into his breast pocket, "have you ever smoked before?" Eyes going wide, Charles looked shocked at the object in Erik's hand. "Oh my god, Erik. Is that... is that-" he looked around fervently before turning back to the taller man, "-a cigarette?" He whispered.

Erik's face fell. He looked down at the neatly rolled paper in his hand. Really? Fucking really?

He decided to roll with it (haha, pun intended, Erik's so funny).

"Um, sure." Erik said as he eyed Charles. This man really was a fucking boy scout, wasn't he? "It will help you calm down, but you don't have to if you don't want to, it's merely a suggestion," he cooed at the smaller man, accent thick and low. Charles stared at the 'cigarette' in Erik's hand for a moment before taking another swig of the Russian's flask—and what was in this; kerosene?— before he put the flask down and shrugged.

"Eh, fuck it; I'm already drunk, what's one more bad deed?" and hold the phone! Did Charles Xavier—"Camp Counselor" Charles Xavier— just drop the F-bomb?

But more importantly: did he really just agree to smoke?

Erik was suddenly very turned on.

"Charles," Erik exclaimed with a smirk, "I didn't know you had it in you." He looked at the smaller man with amusement.

"Oh shut the fuck up and give me the fucking cigarette—yeah I curse; I curse a lot in fact—you try being around kids all day and tell me you wouldn't want to curse like a sailor afterwards. Fuckity fuck fuck _fuck_," Charles slurred out as he leaned onto Erik for support. Sitting was becoming increasingly difficult he noted.

Erik was still trying to get over the initial shock of 1) Charles' sudden vocabulary change and- -Erik's not going to lie; hearing those words come out of that posh and proper British man's mouth made him horny as fuck- - 2) Charles was about to get high with him, and 3) (and more importantly) Charles was leaning against him.

Steady there Erik, you don't want this to end before it even starts. Think unsexy thoughts. Uh... Logan waxing his legs in a bikini (cigar in mouth). Dead kittens. Old wrinkly people having sex in Jell-O. Erik shudder, yep; that will do it.

"Okay Charles," Erik said as he looked around, making sure their spot in the woods was well concealed. Last thing he needed was Hank bursting up on them and shrieking something about "mother nature" and "what the fuck have you done to Charles, why is he drunk?"

Yeah, it would go something like that, probably.

"Since you've never smoked before, I'm going shotgun it to you. You'll still get the…'tobacco', but not as much of it as you would if you took your own hit…er, drag. You'll still get the effect of it but it won't be as overpowering. Understand?" Erik asked as he held the joint between his thumb and first two fingers for Charles to see.

Rolling his head on Erik's shoulder- - and oh god, doing that do things to Erik's cock- -Charles looked up wantonly at the taller man. "Shotgun it, huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Erik had to resist the urge to kiss the drunk, and soon-to-be-high, man and focused on finding his lighter instead. Goddamn Charles and his goddamn soft head on Erik's goddamn shoulder. Erik thought he might cry.

Lighting up his 'special' cigarette, Erik inhaled deeply before bringing Charles' face closer to his with his free hand.

"Oh, we're doing this now-" Charles started but shut the fuck up the second Erik pressed his lips slightly against his and blew smoke into his mouth. Charles inhaled before pulling away and looking wide eyed at the man beside him. He choked on the exhale, of course, and his face turned bright red. It was fucking adorable.

Erik took another hit and blew it up into the air before turning back to his corrupted new friend (Logan would be so proud) and smiled. "How do you feel?" He asked softly. Charles looked a bit starry eyed as he glanced up at Erik. He shrugged. "I don't know, good I suppose? Still a bit drunk." He blinked. "That's a funny tasting cigarette—is it supposed to taste like that?" He leaned his head back on Erik's shoulder and let his body go lax against the taller man.

Trying not to make a fool out of himself by moaning, Erik took another hit, inhaling deeply (goddamn Logan always gets the good shit) and answered: "Yeah, it's a special brand," with a pinched voice before leaning back down and pressing his lips to Charles' again; blowing another steam of smoke into the counselor's mouth.

Hell— Erik was going to hell.

And Azazel will be driving the bus.

Charles moaned slightly (Erik's cock twitched to life) as he took the shotgun from Erik's mouth, inhaling more smoothly this time, in other words: no coughing. He exhaled like a pro and smiled. "Well, that was nice," he said softly, and Erik couldn't decipher if he was talking about the hit or Erik's lips being so close to his. He hoped for the latter of the two.

Smirking, Erik looked down at his new friend with fondness in his eyes. "You feel good then, yes?"

Charles nodded. "I do," he said dreamily.

Erik was such an evil mother fucker.

…

Twenty minutes later…

"You know," Charles said as he stared up at the stars, back on the ground and Erik lying right next to him (they were touching from shoulder to hip but neither of them dared to say anything about it). "You're a terribly good looking man, have I told you that lately?" Charles turned his head just enough so he could look at the older man, their faces just inches apart. Erik smirked, looking up at the stars himself as he took the last drag of their joint, then leaned over and pressed his lips to Charles' again and breathed out the last hit; their lips touching even more than before.

Inhaling slowly, Charles did that goddamn thing with his throat again where he moaned into he and Erik's "almost kiss". It was driving Erik in-fucking-sane with horniness. God damn Charles. Exhaling smoothly, Charles kept his eyes locked firmly with the other man's while Erik leaned over him. Once he was smoke free, he leaned up a bit on his arm and turned to face Erik completely. "I don't think I've ever felt so relaxed in my life, thank you Erik—this was wonderful."

A pause (insert evil smirk from Erik).

"That's because you're high," Erik said with a small wheezing laugh (a stoner's laugh, as Logan likes to puts it). "We just smoked a joint; weed, not a cigarette," he added with another small laugh.

Blinking, Charles gave Erik a glassy eyed look. "Oh." He said simply and then lay back down on the ground. "I think I rather like being high," he proclaimed after a moment, and good, because if not, Erik would have felt bad.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Just then, Erik leaned over the smaller man and said, "I think I rather like you," softly before putting his lips to Charles', and this time he pressed in all the way and kissed him, instead of blowing smoke in.

Moaning gently now, Charles leaned into the kiss, bringing one hand up and placing it firmly onto the back of Erik's head as the kiss intensified.

Both men were breathless once they pulled away after a couple of minutes. Erik looked Charles hotly in the eyes before speaking. "Gott Charles, I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you in those ridiculous shorts of yours." Charles frowned and looked down at his legs. "What's wrong with my shorts?" He asked with a pout but Erik was already shutting him up with another kiss, and really Charles; shut the fuck up and kiss the man.

Covering Charles' body with his own, Erik moaned gently himself as he explored Charles' mouth with his tongue, pulling a small hitching sound for the smaller man that did not at all send a wave of arousal crashing through Erik. Jesus Christ, it was suddenly hot as fuck outside.

Pulling away, Charles surprised Erik for the fourth time that night by having more shocking shit leave his proper little mouth.

"I…I think I'd like to suck your cock now."

_Oh sweet Jesus_—Erik would have done a happy dance but 1) he was too fucking high to do anything that stupid which, didn't make any sense but oh well, 2) his massive boner was calling his attention to more important matters at that moment, and 3) more importantly, Charles was already sliding down his body and reaching for his belt and-

_Oh sweet Jesus._

Erik would have thought that he was just high, but the fact remained that he was indeed high.

...Huh?

Next thing Erik knew his cock was out and, yeah; that's right, Charles was staring at it like it was the eighth wonder of the world—fucking impressive aint it? After Charles' initial shock of awe wore off, he was mouthing it, kissing every inch he could, running his tongue all over and up and down and even taking care to lick Erik's balls just for good measures. What a nice fucking guy he was.

Feeling like the bad influence he was, Erik griped onto Charles' hair and moaned out as the younger man took Erik's cock into his mouth, wet and warmth engulfing it inch by inch.

Holy hell Erik was not going to last long.

Charles sucked cock like a champ, and so much so that Erik pulled Charles' head back a bit for a brief distraction and asked: "Fuck Charles, you done this before or something?" He asked between sharp breaths. Erik was not at going to come earlier than he'd like to take credit for.

Fucking liar.

Smiling before biting his bottom lip into his mouth (stop it Charles, just stop it now!) the shorter man simply gave Erik an innocent look and said: "Well, there was this one time, with a canoe and-"

Erik shook his head. "Just, shut up and suck my cock, Charles," he said huskily with an eyeroll as Charles smiled and went back to work. Erik really didn't have time to listen to what was sure to be a very uneventful and probably long story.

Although he did find himself suddenly envious of this 'canoe' Charles had spoke of.

Working Erik's cock with his mouth and tongue, Charles locked eyes with the man above him and sucked wetly, coating all of Erik's member with his saliva, and was proud of it. He brought his other hand up and fondled Erik's neglected balls, earning him a sharp gasp from the older man, and goddamn did Charles love sucking cock.

It only took a couple more head bobs from Charles before Erik was coming, and right into Charles' mouth—fuckshit that was hot. Charles didn't even flinch as he swallowed all of Erik's seed, didn't cough either.

So, smoking weed—coughs a lot. Sucking cock—no gag reflexes. Erik was learning new things.

"Christ O' might Charles," Erik rasped out, "that was fucking amazing."

Smiling like moron, oh yeah; he was stoned, Charles looked proudly up and Erik and crawled his way up the taller man's body until his was mouth to mouth with him. "And that's not all I can do either," he said hotly before sealing his lips against Erik's.

Fuck. This trip may be the best idea Erik's had in years.

Well, except for that one time that…oh never mind.

TBC


	4. The Shower Incident

Charles pondered a few things as he awoke the next day: 1) Why did it taste like a sock died in his mouth? 2) What the fuck _did_ he do last night? But, and, more importantly, 3) How did Erik wind up in his tent?

Putting Hank…

Ah, right there; curled up on the ground by the campfire, and, oh how nice, he already had is middle finger up and pointed towards Charles. Very professional Hank, very professional. Charles crawled the rest of the way out of his tent, careful not to wake up the sleeping man next to him. Charles couldn't help but notice the sweet little smile Erik had on his face while he slept.

Might have had something to do with the surprise blowjob that Charles sprung on him last night.

Oh god, did he really suck Erik off last night? It all came back to Charles at once. He groaned out loud and rubbed his eyes as he sat on the ground right outside his tent. Erik must think he's a total slag. They hadn't even known each other for a full 24 hours and Charles had already thrown himself at the German like a horny school girl. Jesus Christ O' mighty Charles needs to learn some bloody self control. The animal!

Oh wait, he was fucking high last night, wasn't he? Could he blame that for his less than professional behavior? People do that, right? Blame the narcotics? Charles thought about this for a moment, looking back into his tent at the sleeping hottie.

Na, he would've totally sucked his cock anyway.

Well _what_? Charles was only human, and, have you _seen_ Erik Lehnsherr, aka: the Greek God of a man? _Mien Gott_, that man's fucking gorgeous.

Charles was not ashamed! ...and also in desperate need of a toothbrush. He got to his feet (and kicked Hank on his way) to the small outdoor bathroom that was near their campsite.

"Wake up, Hank, and put that thing away. Are you trying to teach the kids inappropriate hand gestures this early on in the trip?" Charles questioned as he grabbed his overnight bag from the picnic table. (How did it wind up there? Come to think of it, how did Charles make it back to his tent coherently? Did Erik... carry him?... because that would have been hot.)

Hank awoke slowly and tucked his middle finger back down with the rest of them before he sat up and gave Charles a flat look. "Just wanted to make sure you saw it, I've been holding that pose all night, just for you." He said dryly as got to his feet and started walking after Charles. "Also, _me_ teaching the children inappropriate things? Says the man who slept with someone he just met the other day." A pause. "Whose children are here, in attendance." Another pause. "Not but a few yards away in their own tent." Hank said, and, was he being accusative? Charles wasn't sure if he liked the younger man's tone, and what exactly _was_ he trying to get at here?

"We did not _sleep_ together last night Hank, and I don't appreciate all the accusations that are flying around here." Charles retorted as he stepped into the grungy little bathroom. God, a hole in the floor would be better than _this_ shit hole (pun intended). He let the door shut right in Hank's face before the man could say anything else.

It felt good, to be a jerk every now and then.

Charles looked at his reflection in the cloudy mirror. Oh Lord, _did_ he sleep with Erik last night? Was he was so high that he forgot?

Can you forget shit when you're high?

Oh wait, no, nope; there was no way that he slept with Erik last night—his ass wasn't sore—okay, he was in the clear. Not that he didn't 'want' to sleep with the other man, because, Jesus Christ; of course he wants to sleep with him. In fact, Charles wanted Erik to pound his ass so hard that-

"Charles!" Hank's voice cut through his naughty thoughts like a hot knife through butter. "The children are starting to wake up and some of them are getting rowdy, mainly Erik's kids, you may want to get out here."

Well that sounds fucking lovely, Charles thought as he finished up scrubbing the dead sock taste out of his mouth with his toothbrush. He spat in the sink and then looked back in the mirror.

How bad could it be, really?

…

"Seriously dad, what _were_ you thinking? How could you embarrass me like that?" Alex yelled at his father, and, my-my, what terrible manners that boy has.

"You want to talk about being embarrassed?" Erik said, looking down at his son like he was the spawn of Satan, which, well: would be technically true, yes. "You and your sister are the ones that thoroughly embarrassed _me_ yesterday. I still can't believe all the shi-" A throat was cleared and Erik turned just in time to see Charles giving him a warning look with his hands on his hips.

Right. No cursing in front of the children.

Goddamn fucking children.

"Alex," Charles started patiently, "would you like to explain to me what's wrong? Why are you yelling at your father?"

Oh great, always-the-mediator-Charles to the rescue; like he can really fix this screwed up family. Erik huffed as he turned away.

And, much to Charles' surprise, Alex turned with a glare and pointed a finger as he yelled (as loud as he possibly could too, and, thank god the woods echo so nicely just in case not all the goddamn animals heard) the following: "This is all _your_ fault! If my dad didn't want to have SEX with you he would've never came on this stupid trip and ruined my life. I don't want another mom. I already have a mom, and she has boobies, and you don't, so there's no way you can be our new mom." He then turned back to his father, and- -this couldn't possibly get worse, right?- -and said: "You made my principal lose his job and he was cool so everyone at school hates me now and it's all _your_ fault. And now you're sharing a tent and sleeping with Camp Counselor Charles, and I don't want you and him to get married. I don't want another mom!"

First: Really Alex, could he have screamed that any louder? Charles wasn't sure all the neighboring communities had heard.

Second: 'Mom'? Really? Why was Charles always the girl? He considered himself quit manly, thanks.

Third: What's this about Erik getting Alex's principal fired...?

But fourth, and, more importantly: What the living, breathing, _fuck_?

"_Alex_," Erik shouted, "what the HELL is wrong with you? Why would you even say that? That was incredibly rude and uncalled for, and-" he lowered his voice, "- I didn't get your principal fired… he was forced to resign." A pause. "And I heard he got quite the nice severance package." Another pause. "He'll be fine."

Well, that certainly sounds like it could be an interesting story…

"I don't care," Alex yelled (god, still with the yelling, really?). "It was still your fault that he left, and now you and Charles are sleeping together, and- -as uncle Logan always says- -that means sooner or later he won't be around either. You always do this to me! I hate it!"

"We are not 'sleeping' together," Erik said in frustration. Just receiving blowjobs.

"Then why were you in his tent this morning without any clothes on?" Alex shot back hotly.

Oh, he saw that, did he?/p

Hank's jaw dropped, Charles froze in utter horror, and all the children were staring wide eyed, except for Sean who was…what the fuck was he doing? Recording all this on his cellphone? (Splendid, a twelve year old with a cellphone, that's just what Charles needed in his life right now.) And Azazel was… rolling on the ground laughing?…well that's just great, now isn't it?

Before Erik had the chance to have a proper aneurysm he felt a tug on his jeans (thank god he was dressed now at least) and looked down.

Oh, it's just Raven.

Oh no! Not Raven!

"Daddy," she began, and, Erik just knew this was going to end badly...

"I'm thirsty."

Oh. Well, that wasn't bad.

"And are you and Camp Counselor Charles really having sex, or, as uncle Logan calls it: "bumping uglies"?"

Annnd there it was.

Also: goddamn Logan.

Erik squatted down to his daughter's eye level. "Raven dear, first off, no: Charles and I aren't…"sleeping" together. and I've told you before, don't call it that—it's not proper for such a young lady as yourself to say those words, especially when they came from (he sighed) "uncle Logan's" mouth." He hated that man, really.

"What? Bumping uglies?" Raven said with a shrug. "But that's what uncle Logan calls it." A blissful pause. "Except (Erik's heart froze) for that one time he brought back that one special lady, then he just called it a 'mistake'. What did he say she was? A tran..a trans... transve..."

"Raven!" Erik yelled in horror, and he swears his kids work in tandem with each other sometimes. Thanks a lot Emma! "I think that's enough of this conversation."

But Raven wasn't done yet, of course not, why would she be? "Fine, if I can't call it "bumping uglies", then how about: "Training the Tunnel", or "Spooning the Pudding", or the "Bed Boogie"? Uncle Logan said all of those would work just fine." Annnd of course he did. Thank goodiness for uncle Logan; Erik's life just wouldn't be complete without him. Hilarious bastard.

Thankfully, Hank had gotten all the other children away from the train wreck of a scene that just unfolded before their young eye (and ears, mainly ears), with promises of breakfast, and candy, and possibly even a visit from Santa, just as Charles was coming closer to Erik, Raven and Alex, who was still fuming over his father's current "romp in the pants partner" (another one supplied by Logan undoubtedly) and put his hand on Erik's shoulder.

"I think maybe you, me, and Alex should all sit down and have a talk about the events that just unfolded (exploded, was more like it) here today." Charles said gently, and, fuck that sounded boring as shit—like hell Erik wanted to do that—it wasn't any of his son's damn business who Erik was poking…that week. Or ever.

Alex must have had the same thought because he was now looking up at Charles with a pained expression on his face before he yelled (oh goodie, more yelling): "No! I don't want to have a stupid talk, and I don't want you and dad to get married (since when did one goddamn blowjob equal marriage?) and if you do anyway, I'm won't come to the wedding!" He then turned and started to walk off.

Burying his face, Erik was convinced that the universe hated him (or just thought he needed more humor in his life), as he shook his head.

"No, wait," Alex said suddenly, spinning back around, "I _will_ come to the wedding. But I'll be wearing all black," Alex yelled. "Black I tell you! Black!"

If anyone were to wear black to Erik and Charles' wedding it would more than likely be Emma…oh wait, no; she'd still be wearing white: just to be spiteful, and, she'd probably be laughing the whole time, martini in hand. Logan would be there too, cracking jokes, beer in one hand, cigar in the other; his feet up on the pews like it were a goddamn show or something, stained shirt (probably flannel) and hopefully pants. God Erik hoped he'd at least have the decency to wear pants to his wedding. He'd probably even "boo", too, at the boring parts.

... why the fuck was Erik thinking about this right now?

Alex gave his father one last look that scream: _hatehatehatehate_, before grabbing Raven by the hand and tugging her off towards Hank and the rest of the children and, good, Hank can take it from here; he probably doesn't need any help or anything.

Nine rowdy kids vs one easily frightened Hank—yeah, he'll be just fine. Charles raised an eyebrow at Erik. "Um... so-" he scratched the back of his head nervously, "-good morning?"

Smirking, now that all _that_ was over, Erik gave Charles a fond look. "How are you feeling today?" He asked softly, stepping closer to the shorter man. He'll deal with Alex's outburst later—let the kid calm down a bit first, Jesus. Smiling, Charles looked up into Erik's eyes. "Not as good as I was feeling last night, and that little episode aside, not bad. You?" He murmured as he pressed himself closer to the taller man in front of him.

Erik shrugged. "Kind of feel like something died in my mouth, but that could just be from the combination of three year old vodka and weed."

"Ah, so that explains that," Charles muttered to himself before he smiled back up at Erik. "Bathroom's up on the hill- -it's not big, but at least we have running water, and a shower- -so I'd suggest you get to it before the kids do."

Erik's eyebrow arched. "A shower, huh?" he asked seductively, and, _hint hint_.

Oh. Charles' bottom lip absolutely did not migrate to his teeth. "Oh Erik," he mumbled, "I don't know…what if Hank needs us?"

Looking over to where Hank and the spawns of hell were all gathered at the picnic table, Erik saw that they all _looked_ pretty contempt for the most part, with getting breakfast set up. Even Sean was helping by picking raspberries from a nearby bush… oh wait, no; he was just peeing on the poor shrub wildly and laughing like a mad man. Erik made a mental note to stay the hell away from that particular set of foliage.

Also, what the fuck is wrong with Sean?

Shaking his head quickly after saying a small prayer for Sean's parents, Erik turned back to Charles. He grabbed the smaller man and brought him closer. "Come on, Charles," he practically purred into the man's lips. "I'm sure they'll be just fine without us. Just twenty minutes is all. I'm sure they won't even notice we're gone." He lowered his head and nuzzled Charles' neck, causing the smaller man's eyes to shut as a low moan to escape his lips.

Knowing he was wearing the other man down inch by inch, Erik placed a slow kiss to Charles' neck before moving his head back up and meeting their eyes together. "Besides, I'm sure if Hank really needs some help he can always call Azazel over, the man seems trustworthy enough." They both looked over to where the Russian's bus was (yeah, that's right; he camps in his bus) just in time to see the lunatic of a man emerging from the woods, hunting knife in one hand and dead rabbit in other.

...got to be fucking kidding...

Azazel threw his hunt to the ground and let out a war cry while Hank said as dryly as he could: "Azazel, we have breakfast food over here you raging maniac, you didn't need to go all "Survivor Man" on us," while Sean let out a: "Cool!"

Turning back to Erik, Charles said: "Okay, that's all the convincing I need—let's go."

…

"Ow, _fuck_. I don't know, Erik, I don't think we have enough roo—Oh! _Ohhh_ god Erik, yes." Charles moaned out as he pressed his forehead against the tiny shower wall and, ew. The shower was NOT the most desirable place to be doing this.

Nevertheless, Erik grinned as he gripped onto Charles' shoulder from behind the shorter man and worked his fingers in and out of him steadily. "Mm Charles, you feel so warm and tight—I can't wait to fuck you." He cooed against the smaller man's wet back.

Water was pouring out of the showerhead all over them and getting both their bodies wet and slick as Erik slid up closer to Charles and placed a trail of wet kisses all along his shoulders and back. "Jesus Charles," Erik said lowly, "you're so wet I think I could just slip right in and fuck you now." He twisted his fingers in and out of the other man rhythmically, earning him a chorus of gasps and whimpers from the smaller man.

"Yes Erik, please," Charles moaned out as he pressed his body back against Erik's, as if willing him to do just that already. "Please fuck me."

Hearing Charles talk so dirty sent shivers through the taller man, he bent his head down and bit softly onto Charles' neck before removing his fingers and replacing them with the tip of his cock. Erik poked gently at Charles' entrance, making him gasp out a breath as he placed his cheek against the cool shower wall. Still ew, but whatever: Erik was about to fuck him, so who cared?

And Charles looked fucking gorgeous with his mouth slightly open, his breath hitching in anticipation from wanting Erik's cock inside of him, and the way that the shower water was running all over his body and face; making his hair curl and drip water from the tips was just as titillating.

Fucking perfection, as Erik has been known to say.

Pushing in slowly, Erik held tightly onto Charles' right shoulder, curving the smaller man's back, as his left hand guided his cock into Charles with care. "Christ Charles, you tight little thing," Erik moaned out as he got two inches in. "You're going to make damn sure I don't last long." Charles cried out against the shower wall and slammed his eyes shut as Erik worked in another two tedious inches.

Four down, eight more to go.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but Charles still swears it's the biggest cock he's ever seen.

"Fuck Erik," Charles nearly sobbed out, "I love feeling your cock inside me," he said as he stepped his feet apart further, trying to bend over more and give Erik better access.

Upon hearing Charles' filthy words, Erik tried his luck with a small thrust, hoping to get his cock all the way inside the smaller man without hurting him too badly. Charles wailed out as soon as Erik's hips snapped forward and slid more of his thick cock inside.

"Are you okay, Charles?" Erik questioned softly as he stilled his hips, grip still firm on the counselor's shoulder. Nodding his head wordlessly, Charles bit in his lip as a moan rumbled through his throat. "Yes Erik," he panted out after a second. "Faster, please."

Well then, Erik wasn't going to say no to that.

Starting off gently, Erik rocked his hips back and forth, sliding his cock in and out of the shorter man with ease, the water from the shower coating both their bodies and helping Erik's motions along smoothly. Charles moaned out as Erik fucked into him, reaching down and grabbing onto his own erection and stroking in tandem with Erik's perfect thrusts.

"Damn it Charles, I'm not going to last with you clenching your ass around my cock like that," Erik rasped out as he plunged into Charles quicker; in and out, in and out, one solid motion of fucks. He moved the hand that was guiding his cock to grasp Charles' hip as his other remained securely on Charles' shoulder, pushing the man down and holding him firmly as he fucked the daylights out of him.

Charles lowered his head and moaned out as Erik used the hand on his hip to draw him closer; fucking into him even faster now. He grabbed and held onto Charles' flesh hard enough to bruise.

"Yes Charles, fuck," Erik huffed out and gave him a wet slap on the ass as he drove his cock into the smaller man's body uncontrollably, his hips slamming back and forth as he fucked Charles against the wall. Charles was working his own cock, quickly, eyes shut as his face and chest were being smashed against the questionably sticky and stained wall as Erik plowed into him within an inch of his life. When Charles came, he groaned out loudly, and then followed up with a "godfuckingdamnit Erik," as he tried to focus on how to breathe again.

It didn't take long after Charles for Erik to follow suit. He snapped his hips a few more times, sliding in and out of Charles' wet and tight hole with fluency before placing both hands around Charles' waist and all out ramming his cock into him a good couple of times before he spilled his seed within. Erik rasped out a shaky groan as he completed his release, hands loosening their death grip on the poor counselor's bruised hips as he came to a slow stop.

Charles was panting underneath him, trying to catch his own breath as water continued to stream over him. Erik slowly withdrew his cock and took a step back to let the shower rinse all his ejaculate and fluids that remained on his cock away. "Goddamn Charles, I'm going to need another shower after this just to get all the stickiness off my cock. I swear to god your asshole just creamed all over me, you dirty little nymph." Erik said with a husky tone as Charles turned to face him.

Smirking filthily up at the taller man, Charles ran a hand down Erik's chest. "I don't think that's possible love, assholes don't "cream" to my knowledge," he said seductively and Erik just growled low in his throat before he brought their lips together for a crushing kiss.

Water drizzled over them; soaking both their faces as they continued the kiss- -hot and filthy- -and Erik's hands roamed all over Charles' body as he held the smaller man close.

And it would've been the perfect fuck, had the door to the bathroom not just opened right then.

Erik pulled out of the kiss, stilling his body and keeping Charles held close. "Someone just came in," he whispered. Charles looked up at Erik with wide eyes. "What do we do?" He said quietly back.

Shaking his head, Erik just held Charles tighter against his chest. "Nothing, hopefully they go away soon, just don't make any noise," he said softly and then pressed his lips back to Charles'; kissing him passionately as both their eyes slid shut again.

"Daddy?" came a small voice.

Oh, it's just Raven.

Followed by:

FUCK, it's Raven!

Erik stilled again as his eyes flew open. Charles pulled his head back and looked up into the taller man's eyes with panic.

Oh shit. _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit_.

Well come on, they are fucking at a kid's camp; they both should've seen this coming. Morons.

Erik shook his head fervently at Charles without words. He then moved himself and Charles into the corner of the small shower stall and held onto him tightly. He placed a kiss to the smaller man's jaw before addressing his daughter, who, let's face it, has probably seen worse (thanks afuckingain Logan). "Sweetie, would you mind giving daddy just a few more minutes? I'll be out in a little bit." He said lovingly before licking a stripe up Charles' wet neck.

Charles fought against the moan that was threatening to come out of his throat. He closed his eyes and placed the back of his head against the shower wall as Erik licked his neck again; the older man still able to taste the sweat from underneath all the water.

"Okay daddy," Raven said chipper, before adding a hilarious: "are you having Daddy's Special Alone Time?"

A pause.

What in God's name has that asshole Logan been teaching his kids? Fucking Christ! Really?

Erik could see the humor in Charles' eyes so he bit him on the shoulder. Charles almost cursed out loud but sealed his mouth around Erik's shoulder instead and let out a muffled sentence that sounded something along the lines of: _you fucking bastard, I hate you_.

Smirking proudly, Erik turned his attention back to the daughter he couldn't see. "Um, no love, I'm not having (a sigh) "Daddy's Special Alone Time", or whatever you call it. I'm just showering." With another man. After sex. _Amazing_ sex.

"Oh," Raven said softly, then: "because uncle Logan once told me-"

Annnd of course. Here we go.

Erik let his daughter's words drown out as he tipped Charles' head up with his hand and placed a row of kisses along his moist skin, making the other man shudder with delight.

"…also called it "spanking the monkey", but I don't understand what a monkey has to do with having some alone time. I just think uncle Logan is a weirdo sometimes."

"Raven dear," Erik said calmly as Charles laughed silently against the other man's chest, "do you mind, sweetie?" Hearing about "uncle" Logan while in the shower with Charles was like dumping acid on your crotch; not arousing in the least bit.

There was a moment of silence before Raven said: "Oh, of course daddy, I forgot. I'll see you outside in a minute," and then Erik finally heard tiny feet walking off.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Erik smiled at Charles again.

The feet stopped.

Both men frowned.

"Oh, and Camp Counselor Charles?"

Erik's eyes went wide and so did Charles'. They both stared at each other for a moment, shocked, until Charles cleared his throat quietly before saying: "Um, yes dear?"

"Hank's looking for you, said something about the bus driver making a puppet from a dead rabbit's fur." A pause. "Some of the children are scared." Probably not Sean, he probably thinks it's: "fucking cool!", goddamn weird ass kid.

Clearing his throat again, Charles gave Erik a worried look. "Um, okay dear—be out in a minute."

Charles suddenly thought of a name for his latest "incident".

TBC


	5. The Tree Incident

After Charles dealt with the "Deceased Puppet Incident" ("Azazel, if you come near these kids with dead animals again, I swear to god I will have you _deported_," Charles had said calmly), he gathered everyone- -minus crazy bus driver- -around for the pep talk before the hiking trip, and, really? Did Erik really have to do this? That sounded about as fun as watching Logan play drunken Whip Doughnuts at Hippies… okay actually that was fucking hilarious to watch… except for that time he hit a cop (how was he supposed to know the man was undercover?), then it was just plain assault.

Assault with a jelly-filled weapon.

Erik snapped back to- -man he really let his mind wander- -just in time to hear Camp Counselor Charles saying: "…and there'll be lots of hidden trails and caves to explore along the way," as he gave Erik a wink.

Holy batshit in hell, Erik couldn't wait until this hiking trip!

The children all made noises of excitement and the trip was underway. Hank was weighed down with all the water and food and supplies (thanks a lot dickwad Charles, no problem; he's got it all, go on and flirt with the scary German man who may or may not kill everyone in their sleep one night) as Erik and Charles walked side by side, the herd of children skipped ahead and bickered in excitement; Sean talking about that time that Triple C got his hand stuck in-

"So," Charles said quietly as Hank was in the background cursing and fighting with his backpack, arms a flailing wildly, "is there anything 'special' you'd like to see on this trip? I've done this three years in a row now, and I know all the good spots." And he made absolute sure to put an emphases on the words: good spots, as if Erik didn't already know where the man was going with it.

Smirking devilishly at the shorter man beside him, Erik leaned slightly into him and let their hands brush together innocently. "I'd love to see these "caves" you so talked about—that could be fun."

"Fun indeed, my friend," Charles murmured and let his hand slip into Erik's.

"Gosh darn friggen backpack straps, why do they make em' so small…?" Hank grumbled as he fought the losing battle with his knapsack.

"Hank, you have to be ten percent smarter than the object that you're working with," 'someone' (with red hair) yelled back at him.

…

"Cool!" Sean exclaimed as they all came up upon a small cliff that had a lake below it. "Can we go swimming in it?" (Are there alligators in it? Erik thought with glee.) Sean turned and looked back at Charles, who let go of Erik's hand quickly. He smiled and gave a shrug. "I don't see why not; go ahead kids, have fun."

All the kids ran off down the cliff to the lake below as Hank flopped down to the ground heavily, letting the backpack slide off his shoulders. "I remember this being much more enjoyable last year," he said as he shot Charles a squinty eye look.

"I don't remember this lake," Charles mumbled, ignoring Hank's attempt at banter, looking around at their surroundings. He finally did turn to the winded man. "Are you sure we're going the right way? I really think I would have remembered a lake." He remembered the lake where the "Canoe Incident" took place, but that was... oh never mind.

Nodding, Hank wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Of course we're going the right way, what, do you not trust me?" And boy, Hank was snappish this year. Wonder if it had anything to do with Erik's presence.

Nah.

Shrugging, Charles seemed satisfied. He turned next to Erik, who was giving him a knowing look. "So-" Charles' eyebrows shot up, "-you want to go "look around"?" He asked quietly.

Not quietly enough though.

"Oh God," Hank groaned out from his spot on the forest ground, "please tell me you're not going to leave me in charge of all the children while you two go off and have a sha-"

"Hank," Charles cut in, and, well: _he never_. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Mr Lehnsherr and I are simply going to have a look around." Naked. "He's never been here before and I'm sure he'd love to get more "in-tuned" with his nature side." Again: naked.

Also, the only thing that Erik wanted to get "in", was Charles' mouth.

Hank rolled his eyes, and he didn't hide it either, before: "Whatever, go. I'll watch the spawns of hell, just be back in thirty minutes. That's about all I can take before I start to go homicidal."

Jesus, maybe Hank should go visit the bus driver—he might be able to help him relax a bit.

Smiling, it was all Charles needed to hear before he was dragging Erik off and into the wild.

…

Lips met fiercely as Erik pushed Charles up against a red maple, and, what a beautiful specimen of a tree it was, such lovely leafs and—_Oh_… Erik sure moved quickly with his hands.

Charles moaned softly as Erik slipped his hand up the counselor's ridiculously baggy khaki shorts, finding his desired target. "Oh my, Erik!" Charles gasped out after he broke away from the taller (and now stronger, he learned) man's lips. Erik simple hoisted Charles up against the tree, holding him there with one hand as the smaller man wrapped his legs around Erik's waist, Erik's other hand still playing fondly with Charles' hardening cock.

"Mmm, Charles," Erik breathed, "I could absolutely fuck you up against this tree right now." He took a chunk of the smaller man's neck between his teeth and gave a small suck. "But I don't want you to get "barkburn" (and what are we; making up words now?) so I think I'll just suck that lovely cock of yours."

Good god! And if Charles didn't almost just come from that alone…

"Oh Erik, please—yes, do that," Charles rasped out as his head tipped up, eyes fluttering shut. Erik took care to suck another mark onto the man's neck before sprinkling a row of kisses down to his collar bone.

Erik- -and now, he's wanted to do this since he first laid eyes on the man and his ridiculous getup- -_ripped_ Charles' brown shirt; buttons flying everywhere, and exposed the counselor's skin. Charles gasped as Erik attacked his chest, mouthing and kissing his flesh fervently as Charles fought the rest of the way out of his shirt, tossing it aside, and hopefully not into a big steaming pile of bear shit.

What? It's happened before.

He likes to refer to it as "The Bear Shit Incident".

What? You got a better name for it?

Erik worked his way down Charles' body, kissing and licking as he sunk to his knees, hands roaming everywhere as Charles slid down the tree, back onto his feet.

Once Erik was on his knees properly, he looked up at the man above him with a look of wanton on his face. Charles made quick work of his belt and undid his pants, letting Erik shuck them down in a hurry until they were around his thighs. Charles pulled his cock out of his boxers and stroked it a couple of times before placing his other hand on the back of Erik's head, encouraging the man to come closer.

Erik took Charles into his mouth, eyes still pointed up at the younger man as he begun sucking greedily, taking care to coat Charles' cock with saliva.

"Yes Erik," Charles rasped out as his hip begun to rock forward. His hand stayed firmly on the back of the taller man's head as he helped him along with his movements. Lips rolled over cock wetly as Erik sucked the smaller man off. He moaned around Charles' shaft, drawing a shudder from him as Charles' eyes rolled back into his head from pleasure. Erik's mouth was speeding up and so were Charles' hips. Before he knew it, Charles was all out fucking Erik's mouth wildly, the man below him just taking it, opening his throat and letting Charles fuck into him as he pleased.

The hand on the back of Erik's head tightened its grip on Erik's hair as Charles snapped his hips back and forth. "Fuck Erik, not going to last," he grunted out before using both hands to hold the older man's head.

Blinking up at Charles, Erik pulled out his next trick as he sucked even faster (and yes, his jaw was fucking killing him). He reached his hand up, slipped a finger against Charles' hole; not entering, just teasing, and Charles cried out something about loving _mother-fucking-nature_ and then something sounding like a combination of Erik's name and a low moan, or possibly even a sob, as he came into Erik's mouth.

It was fucking music to Erik's ear.

Pulling away from Charles' cock with a wet pop, Erik wiped his mouth with the back of his hand while he looked up hotly at the man above him.

"Christ Erik, I don't know how I'm going to survive this trip," Charles muttered as he tucked himself away and begun pulling his pants up, "…best damn blowjob I've ever had.."

Erik smirked proudly and found his way to his feet. Charles pulled him into a quick kiss before pulling away with a frown and saying: "Lord, is that what I taste like?" Laughing, Erik just shook his head. "You taste just fine to me, Triple C."

Charles groaned. "God, don't call me that," he complained as he picked his shirt up off the ground and, good—no bear shit this time. He slipped it back on and looked down at it with another frown. Hm, that could be problematic.

"You seem to be missing some buttons there, Charles," Erik mocked with a grin.

"And I wonder whose fault that could be?" Charles shot right back, giving the other man a look. He buttoned up what he could of his shirt, only getting about half done, seeing how the rest were lying on the forest floor. It was a good look for him, Erik thought.

"Oh bloody hell," Charles said and gave up. Erik snorted with a smirk and next thing he knew Charles' hands darted over and ripped his own shirt, and, right down the middle too. Oh.

"There, now we're even," Charles said with a victory smile.

Looking down with wide eyes, Erik was a bit impressed, turned on, but impressed—that couldn't have been easy to do…

"Charles!" Hank's voice rung out, and, good: it was just enough time to do what they needed to.

"I'll get you at the next stop, love," Charles said before pressing up and placing a quick kiss to Erik's mouth. Erik growled and pulled Charles back, forcing the smaller man to deepen the kiss before he had the chance to properly escape.

"Charles!" Hank said quicker (and more urgent, it would seem) this time. God, someone better be dead... "Coming Hank," Charles called out with an eye roll. He looked to Erik. "Let's go see what new adventure the kids have gotten themselves into this time, that's giving poor Hank such an aneurysm."

Coming back through the brush, Hank only spared Charles and Erik's torn shirts a glance (he'll ask questions later) before he threw his hands up in the air and declared: "I can't take it anymore! They're all playing: let's pretend to be drowning so we can freak out Hank." He motioned to the lake. "I honestly don't know if Darwin's dead or not," he said with a frantic head shake.

Well, good thing he went to go check…

From the water, Darwin popped up from his previous face-down-in-he-water position with a huge smile and a quick gasp for air. He pointed at Hank and laughed. "Got ya! You totally thought I was dead!"

"I'm really going to drown them," Hank said, before stalking off towards the pond. "Scott! Leave those turtles alone. You can't wear them as shoes. They will not carry you across the lake, no matter how many times you've seen it happen on TV."

Charles looked to Erik with a sheepish expression. "I swear, it's not normally this crazy," he said softly.

…

"I'm hungry."

"Me too."

"When are we going to stop walking? Walking's stupid."

"Why is Camp Counselor Hank so sweaty?"

"As anyone ever been eaten by a bear on one of these trips?"

"I don't know, Sean," Charles started dryly, "you've been here every year so far, so do YOU remember any ravage bear attacks happening?"

Sean, who was walking backwards, gave a shrug. "Guess not, but it would've been cool." He then picked up a stick and started whacking a bush with it.

Seriously, like, he was whipping the shit out of the poor bush—what the serious fuck was wrong with this kid?

Hank snapped at the boy to be respectful to mother nature, which of course was followed up by a "your mother" joke from the redhead, while Charles addressed Kitty and Anna Marie's previous statements. "Girls, if you're hungry we can stop soon for lunch, does that sound good?"

Both girls nodded and ran to catch up with Raven. Scott and Alex, who were in the lead, were throwing rocks down the trail as they walked.

Or lack of trail that was. Hm. Charles didn't remember it ending so abruptly like that last year. Everyone stopped in their tracks. Alex turned and faced the adults. "Um, Camp Counselor Charles? Why did the trail end?"

"Are we lost?" Bobby asked as John looked around, possibly for a way to start a bloody fire.

"Of course we're not lost," Charles said calmly to the children with a reassuring smile before he pulled Hank off to the side and hissed, "Are we _lost_?"

Fumbling with the map he took out of his backpack, Hank looked closely at it for a moment before all the color in his face drained. Uh oh.

Seeing this, Erik made his way over to the two Camp Counselors. "What?" He questioned as he eyed Hank.

"Um," Hank stammered, "I, uh.. may have… grabbed the wrong map…"

Oh, he just grabbed the wrong map.

WHAT!?

Charles grabbed Hank by the shirt and slammed him up against the nearest tree. Luckily, one wasn't too far away— forest and all.

"_What_?" Charles shouted, and, oh look; he's seemed to have devolved Azazel's "crazy eyes" look. How fun.

Okay, fuck, this was serious.

They were lost, they were super fucking lost!

"Calm down, Charles," Hank said, his own eyes wide with fear, "I think I can navigate us out of-"

"How did you get us lost, you oversized boy scout?" Now it was Erik's turn to manhandle Hank while Charles slipped off to reassure the children that; no, they weren't lost and probably not going to die in this god-for-sake waste land of a forest, and who thought hiking was a good idea in the first place? You know how many hikers go missing each year and _die_?

Yikes, Charles can be so negative sometimes... when under preasure…

He sighed, composing himself again. "Now, now, children, everything's going be just fine, Hank is an expert survivalist and trail guide. We'll all get home safely." Although it wouldn't be the worst thing if Sean didn't make it back with them…

Fucking Christ, what was wrong with Charles? He was turning into Erik…

"Are we going to die?" Raven questioned with big, sad eyes. Erik begun choking Hank. "You WILL get us out of these goddamn woods! You hear me? Or I will feed you to the wolves myself," Erik snapped out as he strangled the poor man against the tree.

Between gargled breaths, Hank pointed out: "Actually, there are no wolves in this part of the woods," with one finger up. Erik released his grip and stalked over to his frightened daughter.

Hank took in a gasping breath as his hand went up to his throat. Eh, wasn't the first time he'd been threatened with: _death by wolves_.

"Daddy?" Raven latched onto Erik as soon as he got close enough. "I want to go home. I don't want to be lost in the woods. I miss Snowflake!" She cried.

Fuck. The cat probably has a better chance of survival now than they did. And that's saying a fucking lot. Erik would never want to be under the care of Logan. (What's in this casserole surprise!) Erik shuddered at the thought.

"It's okay, darling," Erik said as he lowered himself down to hug his daughter. "We'll get out of here, I promise." He rubbed her back and then shot Hank a death glare.

No pressure Hank, no pressure.

"Okay," Charles said, taking charge again- and thank god, they almost lost him there for a moment- "let's just set up a makeshift camp for now until we figure out which way to go. We have food and water and everything will be just fine. Bobby, Alex and John, go collect sticks and branches for a fire while Darwin and Scott set up the fire pit with rocks. Kitty and Anna Marie, if you're still hungry go get some snacks from Hank's knapsack."

Sean came up to him, stick still in hand. "What do you want me to do, Triple C?" He asked with a goofy grin. Charles squinted at him.

"Well Sean," he said as he eyed the boy, "what I would _really_ like for you to do is-"

"Charles," Erik said after he cleared his throat. He nodded his head towards his scared daughter. Charles sighed before he turned to Erik and Raven, glancing down at the frightened girl. "We'll get you home Raven, all of us will, I promise," he said calmly with a smile. He'll tell Sean to go jump in a hole later, this was more important.

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her shirt sleeve before giving a small smile herself. "Okay," she said softly, "I'm kind of hungry, too, can I have a snack with Kitty and Anna?"

"Of course dear," Erik said and sent her on her way to join the other girls. He looked up at Charles before standing. "So," he said, "we're lost."

Shaking his head with a sigh, Charles took Erik's hand. "It's okay, Erik. While this isn't the most ideal incident I've found myself in lately, it's certainly not the worse. We'll find our way back, I promise," he said as he shot Hank his own look.

Again, no pressure Hank.

Hm, maybe Charles could call this "The Time Hank got Everyone Fucking Lost Because he Grabbed a Road Map Instead of a Trail Guide Map".

So it wasn't as funny as the other incidents, and it was boarding on stupidly long, but it would do.

Everyone gets themselves an incident sooner or later…

TBC


	6. Now It's A Party

A couple hours later, makeshift camp set up and fire a blazing (thank you John, that was quite impressive…alarming, but impressive), Charles and Hank were arguing over whether to stay put or try and trek back to camp. (_"It's what all the survival shows say to do in a situation like this. If you move around the search parties won't be able to find you." Hank had said while Charles retorted with: "What search parties? No one knows we're bloody missing! The only one who may have his suspicions roused is the creepy-ass Russian bus driver, and even HIM I don't have much faith in. He's probably too busy with his dead-rodent theater to notice we're all gone. No one will even notice we're missing until Monday!"_)

Needless to say, it wasn't going very well. Erik had to step in after a moment and intervene before it came to blows, the children really didn't need to see that.

"Guys, come on—try not to lose it in front of the kids," Erik said as he separated the two counselors. "I think Charles is right, we can't just sit here and wait for someone to find us. I think we need to head out soon."

Rolling his eyes, Hank shot Charles a look. "Of course he'd agree with you, you're only fuc-"

"Camp Counselor Charles," Darwin's voice sliced through their conversation, probably for the best too. "Come quickly! I just saw a hairy lumberjack looking man heading this way!"

As soon as Erik's ears picked up on what the young boy had said, he pushed Hank out of the way and hurried over to Darwin, kneeling down to the boy's eye level. "Did you say: lumberjack looking man?"

Darwin nodded.

"Was he wearing a flannel shirt?" Erik asked next.

"Yep," Darwin said.

"And is he by chance, smoking a cigar?"

Another nod.

Erik deadpanned. "Is he drinking a beer?" He asked dryly.

Darwin nodded again, with a smile.

Jesus Christ...

Just then, Logan (yes, fucking Logan) burst through the brush, cocky grin and all. Yep, flannel shirt wearing ass Logan, complete with a cigar in his mouth, beer can in one hand and a twenty pack of MGD tucked under his other arm.

What the serious fuck?

"Lehnsherr!" Logan greeted with a smile. "There you are man. I've been tracking your ugly mug for hours now." He tossed Erik a beer. "Why didn't you tell me you were going on a float trip? You know I love fucking float trips. Even came prepared." He motioned to the case of beer with his already beered hand.

Seriously, what the fuck was going on?

Erik looked down at the beer in his hand and then to Charles, who was just staring wide eyed at the crazy man who just burst through the woods like he owned the fucking place. Well, he kind of did. Erik shook his head, still in somewhat disbelief himself, as he looked back to his friend. "Logan, how did you-?"

"Uncle Logan!" Both Alex and Raven yelled out at the same time. They ran over to the man.

"Hey-hey! Kids!" Logan squatted down and set his case of beer on the forest floor before embracing both Erik's kids with a hug.

For real, what the serious fuck what was going on?

Logan set his beer can down after Alex and Raven stepped away, Raven was going on about how she just knew someone would come find them and that there weren't going to die out in the woods alone now. He took a puff of his cigar and laughed.

"Logan, seriously," Erik said, still in a state of shock, "how did you find us? How did you know we were missing?" He shook his head. "What are you even doing here?"

Grabbing his beer and standing, Logan pat Raven on the head before he turned back to Erik. "Well," he started before taking a swig from his beer can, "I called Emma to ask her if it was normal for a cat to sleep 18 hours a day— which by the way—it is. I thought it was dead. Poked it with a stick a couple of times." A pause. "It didn't like that." Erik just looked at him. "Anyways, and then we got to talking and she told me all about the kid's little camping trip this weekend. As soon as she said "float trip", I was on board." He took another puff of his cigar.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going floating when we talked last, you bastard? You know I would never miss a chance to get wasted and canoe down a river. Beats staying at home all weekend by myself." He shrugged. "Anyways, so as soon as Emma told me where "Camp Xavier" was- what a fucking stupid name by the way- I was packing my things." (Charles frowned at that last statement. ) Logan held up the case of beer to show this. "And then I was on my way." He smirked. "Oh, also, Emma told me- -before she hung up on me- -that she never really liked the cat and only got it to piss you off, so-" he shrugged, "-jokes on you actually—you keeping it only makes it funnier to her."

Erik rolled his eyes. Damn ex-wife, he should've known something was up when she didn't protest his taking of the cat. He turned back to Logan. "Okay, so that explains how you got to Camp Xavier, but then how did you find the campsite we were staying at?" He popped his can of beer open as well—eh, when in Rome…

Taking another drink of his beer, Logan shrugged. "That was easy, as soon as I found someone, Angel- -I believe her name was- -by the way-" Logan let out a low whistle, "-she's quite a hottie (Darwin narrowed his eyes at the flannel shirt wearing man), I would have totally tried to tap that had she not thrown a box of tampons at my head and screamed at me." (Seriously Logan: mouth filter) "So after she calmed down a bit, she told me where you all were setting up camp for the week, so I got back in my car and headed up north." He gave another shrug and drained his beer.

Blinking at the man for a moment, Erik couldn't believe how lucky he was to have such a crazy ass friend with better survival skills that cockroaches. "Well, that explains all that, but then how did you find us in the woods? We've been lost for hours now." Erik shot Hank a dirty look. "How the hell did you know where to come looking?" A pause. "How did you even know we we're in the woods?" He questioned.

Logan smiled around his cigar. "Ah," he said proudly, "that's where the story gets interesting." Because it's not already enough, Christ. He tossed Erik a flask.

Catching it, Erik gave the cap a quick twist off and smelled the contents.

Vodka.

That would mean…

Just then, Azazel came trekking up behind Logan, and, thank god, no dead animals this time. He grinned at the group of campers. Hey! You found them." He said to Logan with a slap on the back.

Ah, now it's a real party.

Charles shook his head. "I cannot believe this is happening," he mumbled. Logan gave a quick glance to Camp Counselor Charles before tossing him a beer as well. "Nice shorts," he commented, and then turned to Erik with a knowing grin. "That him?"

Blushing slightly, Erik gave Logan a _shut the fuck up_ look before taking a drink of his own beer.

Well it's not like it was that hard to put two and two together, especially considering the fact that Erik's shirt was torn and Charles' was missing quite a few buttons. Logan knew how these things worked. He then turned to Hank, and- -oh boy, was this going to be hilarious as shit. "Who's the overgrown cub scout?" He asked Erik before tossing Hank a beer as well.

Hank fumbled with the beer before getting it properly in his hands. "My name's Hank and I'm not a cub scout, I'm a survival expert and their trail guide—and I don't drink!" He tossed the can back to Logan. "Someone has to be responsible around here," he grumbled as he shot Charles a look.

Catching the can one handed, Logan popped it open and took a swig. He eyed Hank. "Trail guide, huh?" He tossed the empty can that was in his other hand behind his back (Charles muttering something about littering but it went unheard) and arched an eyebrow at the big ass boy scout. "That's why you got em' lost?"

"Hey," Hank snapped, "in my defense-"

"All right, all right," Erik said as he slipped the flask of vodka into his back pocket (that will come in handy for later) and made his way over to Logan. "No need to get volatile with each other right now (they had all week). It doesn't matter who got us lost-" he shot Hank a look, "-all that matters now is that we're saved." He then looked back at Logan and his case O' beer. Jesus fuck, seriously? A twenty pack? Where did he find this man? "You can get us back to camp, right?"

Logan grunted. "Of course I can." He shot Hank a wryly look. "I'm an _actual_ fucking survivalist expert, unlike eagle scout over here, I know woods like the back of my beer can. I know the way back." Hank fumed while Erik made his way closer to his friend.

"Good," Erik said, "because we want to get back before it gets dark out."

Azazel slinked up beside Logan. "_I_ vanted to take my bus, but nyet, this guy here vouldn't let me," he said as he motioned to the hairy man.

Turning to the Russian wacko, Logan gave him a _you fucking serious?_ look. "Dude, Azazel, I told you: you can't drive a goddamn school bus through the woods. It wouldn't have worked," he said, as if he'd already told the man 100 times before.

Shrugging, Azazel simply said: "Could've at least tried," with a crazy smile.

Seriously, Bus Driver to Hell in the making here.

Anyways...

In all reality, Erik was surprised that Logan turned down the "driving the bus through the woods" idea. He could've totally seen it: Azazel with that crazy, batshit grin on his face, mowing over any poor trees that stood in his way as he laughed out loud manically, all while Logan hung out one of the windows- -possibly even the door- - beer in hand, yelling: "Fuck yeah Mother Nature!" and maybe even chucking beer cans at chipmunks, just because he's an ass like that, all while the bus sped through the woods at unreasonable speeds.

Jesus Christ, that would have been a sight to fucking see.

Back to reality...

"All right," Logan yelled out, picking back up his case O' beer and tucking it under his beer free arm (beer free arm? Was that possible?). "Everyone follow me and I'll get ya all out of here," he said as he started trekking back off from where he and Azazel came from. Charles looked down at the beer in his hand, and smiled. Eh, why not? He cracked it open and brought it to his lips, just in time for Hank to walk by and slap it out of his hand.

"No drinking, Charles," Hank said sternly and then walked off towards the crazy lumberjack man with the cigar. Frowning down at his spilt beer, Charles gave a small shrug before walking off towards Erik. They'll be other chances.

Erik was walking alongside Logan and the children were all scattered out between the adults. John and Bobby were by Azazel, and, it had nothing to do with the fact that the man always seemed to have an endless supply of lighters or anything. Scott, Kitty and Anna Marie were alongside Hank, Alex and Raven were of course by their father, and Darwin was kind of just wandering off ahead of everyone else, saying that he was an expert survivalist and that he would have got them all out of there if the hairy lumberjack wouldn't have shown up.

And then there was fucking Sean.

Who of course, had plastered himself right next to Logan and was looking up at him like the man was fucking Jesus Christ himself.

"Did you escape from prison?"

Logan smirked. "No."

"Do you always smoke cigars?"

"Yep." (Even in his sleep.)

"Do you like, know the woods so well because you grew up in them?"

"Yes and no." (And that was the truth folks; he was a goddamn mountain man.)

"Can I have a beer?"

"How old are ya, kid?" Logan grunted around his cigar as he eyed the little pipsqueak.

"Twelve," Sean said proudly, puffing his chest out.

"Not for another three years." Logan answered.

Erik rolled his eyes and prayed that by the time Alex was fifteen Logan would've already moved out (it was highly unlikely though). He reached into his pocket and fished out his pack of cigarettes and popped one into his mouth. Lord, could this weekend throw any more surprises his way?

Walking up beside Erik, Charles slapped the cigarette out of the taller man's mouth before reaching down and entwining their fingers together. Any protest or curse that was going to fly out of Erik's mouth about the loss of his cancer stick was forgotten the second Charles' hand grabbed his.

"So," Charles said as he smiled up at the other man, "this Logan fellow, he's the one I've heard so much about?" Erik pulled Charles a little closer as they stepped over a fallen branch. "Yeah, he'd be the 'corrupter of my children'." He smirked down at the cute brunet.

"Ah," the counselor said, "so he'd also be where you got your "corrupting lessons" from."

Erik's response was simply a grin. Raising his eyebrows, Charles added one more thing. "Although, as I do believe, it is _I_ who owes _you_ the next corrupting," he said seductively as he batted his blue eyes up at Erik.

Having flashbacks to the "Blowjob Against the Tree Incident", Erik knew this was correct. He smiled.

"Hey," Logan shot back to Erik, "I like this kid!" He looked down at Sean. "He reminds me a lot of myself when I was his age." Well that was promising. "Hey kid, you want to learn how to make a shank from a toothbrush?"

"Cool!"

"Hey, let me get in on this too," Azazel said as he slowed his pace down a bit to let Logan catch up, and, yeah, that might actually be useful one day for the Russian…

John and Bobby also looked up eagerly to Logan as he begun his lesson on Toothbrush Shanks 101. "Now first, you want to make sure the toothbrush is good and used…"

Shaking his head with a smile, Charles looked to Erik. "Living with him must be quite the adventure," he concluded.

"Every day my blood pressure elevates a little higher," Erik replied dryly. He squeezed the smaller man's hand and then smiled.

"…now, when you stab a man, you want to make sure you get em' right in the…"

Hank's face twisted into horror as he mentally though: note to self: watch out for Logan.

…

"I'm tired," complained Kitty, which was followed by Anna Marie agreeing and Scott saying he was hungry. Darwin claimed that he didn't need food and Alex rolled his eyes before looking at his father and saying: "I'm kind of tired too. Can we stop for a bit and rest?"

Erik released Charles' hand before anyone saw and looked to him as the smaller man gave a nod. Erik shouted up to Logan, interrupting his lesson on Potato Shanks, and, oh good, he's moved on from toothbrushes. "Hey Logan, we need to take a breather—the kids are getting tired."

Looking back, Logan gave a nod and set his case of beer down. "Alright, we'll rest here for an hour, but that's all." He looked up towards the sun. "We got a few more hours before we have to worry about it getting dark, so we can't dilly dally around for long." He tossed Erik another beer before grabbing his own.

"Can I have one?" Sean questioned again as Logan sat down on a rock.

Shrugging, Logan took a puff of his cigar before saying: "Eh, why not? I like ya."

Hank bolted over just in time to slap the beer from Sean's hand with a: "Jesus H Crispy! Am I the only responsible one around here?" Probably. Sean frowned down at his spilt beer and Logan cursed about alcohol abuse. Azazel made a comment in the background about the drinking age in _his_ country as John and Bobby both had looks of "cool!" on their faces.

It was all getting out of hand so quickly.

Hank was still flailing around and ranting on about the "trip from hell" that it had turned into when Erik slipped Charles the flask of vodka the Russian man had so graciously provided for them. At first Charles shook his head and gave Erik a silent: "No, I couldn't, not with the children around," before he remembered what had happened last time he shared a flask with Erik.

He smiled and took it as Hank paced back and forth, shaking his head and going on about: "Goddamn Grizzly Adams comes out of nowhere and now he's serving kids beer-"

"Go slow with that, Charles," Erik purred into his ear. "Don't want you to passout before I get the chance to take you into that cave over there and fuck you."

Looking over, sure as shit, Charles saw the small cave Erik was making reference to.

Oh.

_Oh_ yes—that would be fun indeed.

"Logan, Azazel," Erik shouted over to the men, "Charles and I are going to…take a look at that cave over there," he said lamely with a smirk. "Watch after the kids for us." (Hank gave a cry of "_what?_"). "We'll be back shortly."

Logan raised his beer and gave them a nod as Azazel just gave them a knowing smirk.

"Daddy?" Raven said as she made her way closer to the two men. "Can I come with you? I like caves." She smiled sweetly at them.

Well... that would put a damper on their plans.

Squatting down, Erik placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I'm sorry sugar but Charles and I are going in that cave to… look for bears, which would be way too dangerous for you. You wouldn't want to get hurt, would you?" Raven shook her head. "Good," Erik said as he stood, "now we'll be back in a bit. I'll let you know if we find any bears."

"Okay," Raven said happily as she skipped off to tell Kitty and Anna Marie how cool her dad was, and that he was going bear hunting. Hank approached just in time, with a none-too-pleased look on his face. "Really?" He looked right at Charles. "You're really going to leave the Alcoholic Mountain Man and the Russian Creeper Bus Driver in charge?"

Charles gave his friend a sheepish look. "What?" he asked timidly. "They seem…trustworthy." He looked over to Logan and Azazel. Logan was demonstration…something, with a beer can- -Charles really wasn't sure if he wanted to know what- -and Azazel was telling the boys about the time he drove his bus straight through a-

You know what, Charles decided it wasn't important. He turned back to Hank with a beseeching look. "It will be alright Hank, I promise. We won't be gone long."

Erik slapped Charles on the ass. "Speak for yourself."

Rolling his eyes, Hank just mumbled: "Whatever." He turned his back and started walking off, but not before throwing Charles a: "By the way, I'm labeling this one "The Time Charles Left two Clinically Insane People in Charge of the Children While he Got Frisky in a Cave with Erik Lehnsherr" Incident." A pause. "And I truly hope there's a bear in there and it mauls you both."

Jesus...

Charles should really set some ground rules on about how long the incident name's can be. That one was boarding on _too long._

…

Erik pushed Charles up against the cave's wall (boy that seemed familiar) and kissed him harshly, cupping his face with both hands. Charles let out a small whimper before tipping his head back while Erik worked his mouth down Charles' jaw and neck, licking and mouthing all the way down.

"Here, let me help you with that," Erik said with a rumble and then ripped Charles' shirt the rest of the way; the remaining buttons popping off and flying into the darkness of the cave. "Erik!" Charles rasped out in protest but was silenced as soon as he felt lips press to his firmly. He moaned into Erik's kiss and decided to exact his revenge in a different way. Slowly, he ran his hands down Erik's chest as the taller man kissed him with passion, alternating between sucking Charles' top lip and bottom lip into his mouth.

Without warning, Charles gripped either side of Erik's already half ripped shirt and finished off the job with one solid motion.

The sound of cloth ripping echoed through the cave and Erik released the smaller man's mouth. He looked down at his completely torn shirt then back up at the man in charge.

"Oh Charles," he said with passion, "I didn't know you had that in you." He stared into the man's blue eyes. "That was so fucking hot," he concluded before resealing their lips together. This time it was Charles' moan that echoed through the dark cave. The only light coming in was from a small hole in the ceiling. It was just enough light for Erik to see what he was doing. He reached down for Charles' belt buckle and flicked it open quickly with one hand (Charles was impressed, had he been a female, he was sure Erik would've undid his bra one-handed instead) and worked next on his pants button.

As soon as Charles' pants hit the ground, pooling around his ankles, Erik starting palming the shorter man's cock. Charles was already rock hard from Erik's advances (truth be told, Charles was hard the second Erik dragged him into a dark, damp cave, for a quick fuck) and let out a muffled moan against the taller man's lips before breaking away from the kiss all together to draw in a ragged breath.

Erik slipped Charles' cock out from the slit in his boxers, stroking him quickly as his other hand wrapped itself around the back of Charles' neck, forcing the smaller man's head up to look Erik in the eyes. "Look at me while I jerk you off—I want to see your face when you come," Erik rasped out deeply, working his hand even quicker over the younger man's plump cock.

Charles gasped and looked Erik deep in the eyes as another moan escaped his mouth. His back was digging into the jagged wall of the carven, but it didn't matter. The way Erik was touching him felt so good nothing could bother him in that moment.

"I need you to come for me, Charles," Erik said impatiently, but not unkindly. "We don't have any lube and I don't want to hurt you," he said against Charles' ear, giving it a good lick before nuzzling his neck. Thrusting his hips, Charles fucked into the hollowed hole of Erik's fist, closing his eyes and moaning lowly as he felt Erik's grip tighten around his cock.

"Yes Erik," Charles ground out, "just like that." He sped his hips up, fucking into Erik's hand faster.

When Charles came, Erik's other hand- -the one that was resting on the back of Charles' neck- -flew down and caught the other man's ejaculate, his palm getting coated nicely with the sticky, milky fluid. "Oh Charles," Erik breathed, "that's perfect. Now turn around so I can fuck that ass of yours." Charles didn't even have the chance to catch his breath or properly recover from his release before Erik was turning him around and pushing his face up against the cool rocks of the cave wall. It felt nice, actually.

Succumbing to the same fate as his shirt, Charles' boxers found themselves being ripped right off of him, shredding right down the side seam as Erik found he had no patience for this "removing clothes nicely" crap. He simply wanted Charles naked, right then and there.

"Christ Erik," Charles wailed out, cheek pressed against the rock wall. "At this rate I won't have any clothes left for the rest of the trip!" Erik just smirked as he brought Charles' ass closer with his goop free hand. He leaned over, placed a wet, echoing kiss, to the top of Charles' shoulder before whispering in the other man's ear: "Maybe I don't want you to have any clothes left," and then swiped his come covered hand between the younger man's ass cheeks.

Charles gasped as he felt the wetness smear on his ass, coating his entrance with stickiness and slick.

Rubbing the remainder on his own cock, after he worked his pants down and around his hips, Erik lined his cock up with Charles' hole. One small thrust later, Erik's head was in and Charles let out a loud gasp. The sharp inhale echoed through the cavern's walls.

"Oh yes Charles," Erik said smoothly as he pushed another couple inches in, "I want to hear all your lovely sounds echoing off these walls." He pushed in again, drawing a small sob from the man below. "Don't hold back on me, Charles, I want to hear my name bouncing off the walls." He gave one final thrust and was in all the way. Charles wailed out a loud cry that boomed through the cave, sending tremors of pride surging through Erik as he started to speed up his thrusts. Charles curved his back inward and moaned out as his hands gripped the slick wall before him.

Leaning over, Erik plunged into Charles deeper as he brought himself closer to the smaller man, fitting his chest against Charles' back. Charles reached one arm around him and hooked his hand around the back of Erik's neck as the taller man fucked into him, holding Erik, if possible, even closer.

Breathing harshly against Charles' ear, both of Erik's hands found themselves back around Charles' waist, gripping tightly on the skin there just like when he fucked the man in the shower stall back at camp. "Goddamn it Charles," Erik huffed out, "how are you so tight and wet?" He asked as he plunged into the smaller man, over and over again. "You only get this wet for me," Erik rasped, "don't you?" He fucked into him faster, hands tightening around Charles' waist.

Moaning out something that resembled a yes, Charles tipped his head back to where it was resting on Erik's shoulder. He closed his eyes and breathed harder. A sharp smack to Charles' hip made his eyes fly open again, the sound carried through the cave with a pierce, making it sound worse that it was.

"Was that a "yes"?" Erik groaned, fucking into the smaller man with ease now. "I want to hear you, I want to hear my name bounce off these walls as it spills from that sexy mouth of yours," he said hotly, leaning up on his toes to fuck into Charles at a slightly elevated angle.

"Oh _yes_, Erik," Charles cried out, pressing his back against Erik's chest as he took the pounding from behind. "Yes Erik, I only get this wet for you," he moaned out. "I only want you to fuck me," he said before closing his eyes again and letting the pleasure of Erik's cock take him away. Erik pumped into him faster. "Whose cock do you want inside you?" He questioned as one hand left the vicinity of Charles' hip and migrated up to tangle in the brunet's hair. "Tell me," he added harshly as he gave a tug on said hair.

Head snapping back, Charles whimper, eyes still shut. "Yours Erik," he moaned lowly, "only yours." Erik's cock drove into the smaller man a few more times before he felt is release build. He gripped onto Charles tightly as he came inside of him, grunting out a low moan as his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Fuck Charles," he said softly, "you feel so goddamn good." He released his hold on the smaller man's hair and ran a soft hand down Charles' back as he looked down at his cock, which was stilled buried deep inside of the other man. He gave it a few good pulses just to hear the younger man gasp, and watched as Charles squirmed underneath him; wiggling and panting.

It was quite fucking satisfying to see.

Erik grinned as he slipped his spent cock out, earning yet another lovely sound from the thoroughly fucked man below. "Come here, Charles," Erik said gruffly as he spun the shorter man around to face him. "I meant what I said," he told Charles as he cupped the brunet's face. "I don't want any other cock inside you, only mine," he said possessively before merging their lips together. Charles hummed softly into the kiss before his eyes flew back open. He pulled away from Erik swiftly and looked around, brows knit together.

"Did you hear that?" He questioned quickly with a hushed voice before looking back at Erik. Erik's eyes shot around the cave before landing back on Charles'. He shook his head. "No, what was it?"

There was a silent pause as Charles cocked his head to the side, listening. "I don't know," he said, "but it's definitely something."

Erik listened for another moment, he couldn't hear anything but... oh wait; there it was. Yes, Charles was very much right, there was some odd noise coming from deep within the cave.

What was that? Kind of sounded like…

Uh Oh.

TBC


	7. The Cave Incident

Now, no one had ever told Erik that the shit you see in movies, with bats chasing people out of caves by the thousands, could really happen—so, when it _did_ happen to him and Charles, it was quite hilarious, one might say.

Okay, it was fucking terrifying, but to everyone else it was pure gold.

And by everyone else, this of course includes Logan. Logan, who was rolling around on the ground holding his stomach and laughing while John was yelling: "Stop, drop and roll, stop, drop and roll!" At least Charles took one horrifying moment out of his experience to have a thought of: _Oh good, at least someone taught the boy that_, before he went back to screaming like a girl as he and Erik tried to evade the fucking rats with wings as they swarmed over them.

Azazel was shouting something about "play dead" and Charles couldn't help but think: _wonderful, that's about as helpful as John's suggestion you twat_, and continued running around with his shirt still open (not that there was any hope in closing it now, seeing how the buttons were all gone) and his pants only being held up by his fly since his belt got left behind in the chaos of things.

Logan (after recovering from laughter) picked up a beer (it's a wonder he still had any left) and chucked it at one of the bats, it smashing into the winged fucker and making it squeak. The bat was momentarily stunted before it continued on with its flying torment and once again Charles had a dry thought of: _Well THAT was fucking useful, thank you_.

Raven was screaming at the bats to leave her daddy alone while Alex decided throwing rocks at them was the best course of action to take (again, thank you Logan for your beer can demonstration), all while Sean stood and stared with his goddamn mouth open before he yelled out: "Cool!"

God, someone please punch that kid in the face.

Hank was too busy gawking to be useful and all the other children joined in on the rock throwing fun (except for Kitty and Anna Marie, who were screaming and holding on to each other), so Erik finally just grabbed Charles and threw him to the ground and dove on top of him as the bats from hell (maybe they were looking for Azazel's bus) flew off into the distance, shrieking and taking their fucking flapping ass wings with them.

Logan whipped one more beer can at the pack of winged rats just for good measures as they flapped off, smacking into one with screech.

He turned and looked down at Charles and Erik and declared: "Gone," with a goddamn smile on his face.

And that friends, will forever been known as "The Bat Cave Incident".

…

"Here," Logan said gruffly as he unbuttoned his flannel shirt, "I don't even want to know what happened to the one you were wearing," he told Erik as he took off his white undershirt and handed it to his friend. Charles had a hard time _not_ staring- -scary foul mouthed mother fucker aside; Logan was quite ripped.

Erik threw on Logan's shirt with a thanks and turned to look at Charles. He gave him a soft smile when he noticed the younger man blushing and went over to his side.

"You okay?" Erik questioned. Charles nodded. "Yeah, now that we're no longer being harassed by bats." Erik smirked. "It was quite an experience," he said softly before Raven came up and tugged on his pant leg, reminding Erik that he still had the Russian's flask in his back pocket. He was honestly shocked it didn't fall out while he was fucking Charles in the cave (or the bat chase), because shit, he was really giving it to the man and-

"Daddy? Why did the bats chase you and uncle Charles out of the cave? Was it because you woke them up and that made them angry?"

No, it was because daddy was fucking Charles so hard that Charles couldn't keep his goddamn mouth shut and he woke up all the bats and made them angry.

Oh. So yeah, Erik supposes that's exactly what happened.

Also: uncle Charles?

He squatted down by his daughter and pulled her into a hug. "No darling-" he pulled her back and looked into her eyes, "-you see, what happened was, Charles threw a rock at-"

"Erik," Charles chided from behind him and Erik cocked his head around to look at him. He gave Charles a sheepish grin before turning back to Raven and saying, "Yes love, I suppose we did make the bats mad. We must have disturbed them when we were…exploring."

"With your pants down," Hank muttered as he walked by.

"Looking for bears?" Raven asked, luckily unhearing of what Hank had said. Erik nodded. "Yes, when we we're looking for bears." Bears meaning Charles' cock.

"Did you find any?"

Did Erik and Charles come screaming out of the cave with a goddamn bear hot on their heels?

"No darling," Erik said as he shook his head. He smiled at his daughter's innocents. (Just wait until she's fourteen and that all goes to hell. Thanks a lot Logan!)

"Okay!" She said happily and turned to skip off towards Kitty and Anna Marie. Erik sighed as he shook his head with a smile, looking at the ground. He pulled out his pack of smokes and popped one in his mouth.

Walking by, Logan smacked it out of Erik's mouth and squished it into the ground before yelling: "Alright everyone! Break time's over, let's get a move on."

Erik looked down at his smashed cigarette in horror.

Really? Logan too?

…

The trek back to camp was... less than ideal, but Logan seemed to know where he was going. "Come on guys," Logan said around his cigar, "not much further to go, let's pick up the pace!"

"I think I'm dying!" Bobby wailed out, and Scott agreed by collapsing to the ground and refusing to get up.

"My feet hurt and I'm hungry and this trip sucks!" Anna Marie complained, which only got Kitty started in on it too. "I'm not going any further—someone will have to carry me," she protested.

Rolling his eyes, Logan set his steadily empting case of MGD down and gave a grunt. "Come on now, you all are supposed to be scouts. What? You can't handle a little bit of hiking?"

"Should've taken the bus..." Azazel mutter to Logan as he strolled by.

"We've been hiking all day!" Darwin, no longer so full of himself, complained.

"And we weren't supposed to get lost either—that's not part of being a scout—this trip officially blows balls!" Alex said as he flopped to the ground.

"Alex! Language," Charles chided, then looked to the boy's father. "Erik?"

Erik just shrugged. "He's said worse."

Shaking his head, Charles came to the conclusion that dating Erik Lehnsherr was going to be quite an experience.

"Come on guys," Logan said, "we gotta keep moving. The sun's going to go down soon." He looked down at his case of beer. "And I'm almost out of beer—we need to keep going."

"The beer's probably more of a concern," Erik whispered to Charles with a chuckle as the kids all groaned out and got to their feet again.

A couple minutes into walking, Raven appeared at her father's side and looked up at him with big, sad eyes. "Daddy?" She started, and Erik said a prayer. "My feet are tired—will you carry me?"

Charles shot Erik a fond look and Erik just sighed. He squatted down next to his daughter and ran a hand through her hair. "Darling," he said sweetly, "I would love to carry you, but daddy's arms are very sore—I don't think I can."

"Why?" Raven asked as her head tipped to one side. Erik frowned. "Why what?"

"Why are your arms sore?"

Goddamn kids and their goddamn many questions.

"Well, um…you see-" Erik had a flashback of him holding Charles up against the tree, kissing him fiercely as the smaller man moaned, and then one of him holding Charles up against the cave wall as he fucked into him. "Um.."

Joining Erik at his daughter's level, Charles smiled sweetly at her. "You see darling," he said kindly, "when your father and I were in that cave—looking for bears—I got my foot trapped under a large rock and Erik here had to move it for me, so that's why his arms are so sore." Well, it wasn't _exactly_ a lie—Charles did get his foot stuck between two large rocks, but that's because Erik was impatience and was pushing Charles down the narrow path of the cave and Charles couldn't see where he was going.

But Erik most certainly did 'not' move a large rock for him. Charles simply removed his own foot by twisting it free—no thanks to Erik who just thought it was hilarious and took advantage of the situation by "feeling up" a trapped Charles (no real complaints on that from Charles though) while he struggled to get free.

"Is that what happened to your shirt too, Camp Counselor Charles?" Raven questioned as she pointed to Charles' open shirt. "Did a rock do that?"

Ummmm…

Now, being caught off guard was something that Charles was not used to (better get used to it if you're going to date Erik; his kids are masters at that). He looked dumbfounded at the small child as he tried to think of something clever to say.

...He had nothing.

Hank snorted in the background and may have said something resembling: "Totally deserved it."

Logan noticed the herd slowing down so he yelled back at the stragglers: "Hurry it up or I'm leaving you here!" as Azazel came over and inadvertently saved Charles from Raven's question.

"Would the little one like a piggy-back ride?" He asked down at her with his thick accent (and don't forget the crazy smile). Raven herself smiled, and gave a: "Yeah!" before running around to Azazel's back and jumping on him. This of course got looks of envy from Kitty and Anna Marie (and Sean, don't lie) but Raven didn't care, she was having too much fun being up so high to care what her camp friends thought.

Azazel was off after an: "Uhmp!" from Raven's sudden attack on his back and Charles and Erik followed not too far behind. They were the furthest behind of the group so Charles took advantage and reached down to slip his hand into Erik's. The taller man gave him a smile and squeezed his hand gently.

After a good ten minutes of walking, and another beer down for Logan, Alex turned around to look for his father.

Erik let go of Charles' hand so fast he was surprised that the smaller man didn't topple over from the force of it. Charles frowned at Erik and gave him a pouty look, eyebrows furrowed in sadness.

"Dad?" Alex asked, wondering why Triple C looked like someone just knocked his teacup out of his hand, "is uncle Logan really going to stay with us the rest of the trip, because that would actually be cool if he did."

Of course it would…

Erik looked up to where Logan was leading the pack: he drained the current beer in his hand and smashed it against his forehead with a grunt before chucking it off to the side. Hank yelled something and littering to which Logan simply responded back that he was helping the environment by providing a future home for a hermit crab, or some shit like that, which didn't make any fucking sense at all seeing how they were nowhere near the goddamn ocean, but Jesus Christ; it's Logan, shit didn't have to make sense.

Next, Sean picked up one of Logan's discarded beer cans and smashed it (attempted to) against his own forehead, which only resulted in his crying out in pain and Azazel pointing and laughing. Erik tried his hardest not to laugh himself, he stifled a grin but ended up snickering as Charles made his way to tend to the hurt boy—god forbid Sean gets Staph Infection from one of Logan's beer cans—Camp Xavier might get sued… among other things that took place during the trip.

Erik looked back down at his son, completely forgetting what his question was, and was utterly amused at how quickly a hilarious situation could unfold at any given moment. Surely this all had to have been planned.

"I'm sorry, what was that son?" Erik asked, grin still wide from Sean's stupidity. Rolling his eyes, Alex gave a sigh. "I said: is uncle Logan really going to stay with us the rest of the weekend?"

Oh god, Erik forgot all about that. He had a flashback to fifteen years ago when he and Logan went on their famous "float trip from hell" trip (that's odd, Erik didn't remember Azazel being the one to drive them there, but then again, that entire trip he was quite drunk).

It was also where he met Emma.

Erik shuddered at the memory and then looked down at his son. "Yes, I suppose so," he said in reference to Logan staying with them. "I just hope this time when we go on the river he manages to keep his clothes on…"

"What?" Alex asked, confused look on his face, bringing his father out of his trance. (At least he didn't tell Alex about the Park Ranger that Logan and slept with to get out of the indecent exposure ticket she was supposed to give him, which in turned ended up being more indecent then when he was standing up in the canoe, his wang out, yelling at girls canoeing by that he knew they wanted some.)

Seriously, this was how he met Emma.

Ah, to be twenty again…

Snapping back to, Erik shook his head and then looked back down at his son. "Nothing," he said quickly, "nothing, just go back up there with Scott and make sure John and Bobby don't try and set fire to anything." Alex grumbled something that sounded like an: "Ah man," before heading back up to join the rest of the group.

Reaching into his pocket for his smokes, Erik noted that Charles was still busy with a blubbering Sean while Logan was nearby saying something about trying it next time with a full can and how that would've been funny shit, so Erik popped a cigarette in his mouth and patted around for his lighter.

Now where the fuck did he put it?

Looking up again, Erik mumbled, "Goddamn it," before he took off towards John.

Little thieving bastard...

…

"CAMP," Hank shouted as he flung himself to the ground, thanking all that was Holy that the crazy lumberjack man managed to save them.

"Take it easy, Hank," Charles said dryly as he walked by, "we weren't even lost a full twelve hours."

"And _you're_ the one who got us lost," Erik added, coming up behind Charles and giving his ass a quick grab. Hank ignored them both and continued his praise.

"Hey," Logan said as he clapped Erik on the back, "Azazel's going to run me up to the nearest gas station so I can pick up some more liquor for the float trip tomorrow." He looked down at his near empty case O' beer (Jesus Logan, really?). "I was thinking a couple twenty packs, a few bottles of Jack, maybe a handful of tall cans while I'm there? Will that be enough?"

Erik looked to non-alcohol drinking Hank, who was still kissing the ground, then over to Azazel, who didn't drink, then finally Charles, who couldn't even handle a flasks worth of vodka if he tried. He gazed back at his friend.

"Yeah, that should cover it."

Logan smirked as he clapped Erik on the shoulder again. "Great, I'll be back shortly."

"Daddy?" Raven's sweet voice floated up towards him. "Can I go with uncle Logan and uncle Azazel into town?"

Looking down at his daughter, Erik kneeled. "Darling," he said sweetly with a smile, "don't ever call Azazel that again." He then had a flashback to a previous image that ran through his head earlier: Logan and Azazel speeding through the woods plowing over trees and critters as Logan yelled "Fuck yeah!" before chucking a beer can at a bird.

He shook his head once and looked back at Raven. "No love, I think you should stay here with daddy, okay?"

She nodded her head softly. "Okay." Looking over Raven's shoulder, Erik next spotted Sean. "Sean," he called out, "you should go with Logan and Azazel—just to keep an eye on them."

"Cool!" Sean declared before heading off towards Azazel's bus, and, no—there was no way that Erik was hoping the bus would meet its fiery demise as it careened off a cliff with all three inside. (Logan would be cheering, as they all fell to their doom. Beer still in hand too, more than likely.)

Jesus Christ Erik…your friend's on that bus!

"Erik?" Charles questioned, bringing the man out of his thoughts of pure evil. He looked over to Charles. "Sorry…I had a sudden thought." He then smiled fondly at the shorter man.

Raising an eyebrow and giving Erik his own smirk, Charles inquired: "Hm, is that so? I do hope it was about what we'll be doing later on this evening," with suggestion behind it.

"Of course," Erik growled.

"Dad?" Alex's voice sliced through their conversation like a bucket of cold water, and, oh god, Erik hoped he didn't hear any of that. "Why are you looking at Triple C like you want to devour him?"

_Damn it_.

Looking down at his son, Erik tried to decide the best course of action to take here. Tell Alex that him and Charles were dating, or put it off as long as he can and continued to hide it from his son? And with any luck, Alex will just walk in on him and Charles and find out that way.

Oh wait, that already sort of did happened, only it was just Erik sleeping in Charles' tent, and Alex reacted quite poorly at that in turn.

"Maybe it's time you have a talk with your son," Charles said quietly, as if he could read Erik's thoughts. Which, really, no one should do; they're quite fucked up. _Azazel, Logan and Sean, all soaring off a cliff while the bus is a-blazing._

... yeah, that's a pretty fucked up thought to have.

Although, to be fair, Erik had it right earlier: Logan really would still be drunk and shouting: "Whooo! This was always how I wanted to die!" as he drank his last beer while the bus screamed down the cliff at raging speeds.

Hopefully Sean would piss his pants as Azazel cackled manically, still steering the helpless bus widely.

See? Erik's thoughts are fucked up.

Looking back to his son, Erik motioned with his head for the young boy to come closer. "Come on Alex, I think it's time you and I have a talk."

Charles watched happily with a smile on his face as father and son took off towards the river, hand in hand as the sun set before them like in a beautiful picture.

He frowned.

Hopefully Erik was not planning on drowning Alex.

…

"…and you want your father to be happy, right?" Erik asked. Alex let his feet splash around in the water below as he sat next to his father on the riverbank. "Yeah…I suppose," he said slowly.

"I really care about Charles, and I want to give he and I a chance. I've been so lonely after your mother left—I just want to be happy again." Erik said, looking over at his son. Alex kicked at the water mildly. "I know," he replied, "I just wish you and mom would get back together sometimes." He looked off towards the water.

Erik ran a tired hand down his face. Lord, where does he even begin with that train wreck?

"Alex," he started slowly, "your mother and I… we just don't love each other anymore. I know you're too young to fully understand, but I could never be happy with her again, it just didn't work out between us." He looked to Alex. "It doesn't mean that we don't still love you and your sister, because trust me, we do—more than anything."

"More than uncle Logan's casserole surprise?" Alex asked as a small smirk spread over his face. He looked over to his father.

Erik deadpanned. "...hate that man's cooking—I swear he's trying to kill us all," he mumbled. He looked back at his son. It was good; Alex was starting to come around to the fact that Erik was not going to be getting back with his ex-wife, ever.

It was a start.

He put his arm around his son's shoulders and pulled him closer. "Thank you for understanding—I promise I won't screw this one up." Alex smiled. "I hope not, because I like Charles, and I don't want to stop coming to camp because of you."

Hey. Alex still goes to the same school... it's just his principal that's no longer there.

Okay, that was beside the point.

Shuffling his gaze up to his father, Alex asked: "So you really like Charles then?"

"Yeah," Erik said quietly, "I do."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Even with the way he dresses?" Erik looked back down at his son with a grin. "Hey, he's not 'that' bad of a dresser," he said in Charles' honor. Alex gave his father a sideways glance. "Yeah, I suppose you're right—least he's not as bad as that one professor you dated briefly awhile back."

"Professor Francis?" Erik asked in horror from the memory. He smiled before shaking his head, chuckling a little. Alex laughed as well. "Yeah, the man wore cardigans year round, what was wrong with him?"

"Don't forget his tweed coats," came a small voice from behind them. Erik turned to see his other child. His grin widened. "Come here Raven." He patted the ground next to him, inviting her over.

Raven made her way over and plopped down next to her father, opposite side of her brother. Erik put his arm around her as well and held her close.

"So you two really didn't like the way Professor Francis dressed?"

Alex snorted. "He dressed like an old fart, dad."

Raven giggled. "Yeah, and uncle Logan said that one time-"

Charles stood on top the hill and looked down at the happy family before him. They looked so good together, sitting on the riverbank, side by side as a happy family should.

He just hoped they had room for one more.

And not Logan! That man was already a leech...

TBC


	8. The Cooking Spray Incident

After Logan and Azazel returned and all the children headed off to their tents to bed after dinner (- -_"Big day tomorrow kids! We leave for the river at nine, so make sure you all get a good night sleep."_- -), Charles found Erik as he was coming down the hill from the campsite's bathroom.

"Hey," he said with a smile. A wicked smile.

Erik smiled back and looked over the shorter man's shoulder before giving him a kiss.

A hoot echoed up towards them and Erik glared off towards Azazel's bus, where Logan was icing down enough beer for a frat party with a new cigar in his mouth. He gave the two men on the hill a smirk before turning back to the extra large sized cooler below him.

Jesus Logan, a cooler, really?

The man really takes his float tripping seriously.

Azazel gave them a solute as he sat on top of another cooler (another cooler? Really?). He too had a cigar in his mouth now, and, wonderful—Logan's such a good corrupter isn't he?Charles just shook his head at the two odd men with a smile before looking back at Erik. "Did your talk go over well with Alex, or does he still wish a hex upon us?"

Bringing Charles closer, Erik placed a quick kiss to his lips. "He's getting used to the idea of you being my new boyfriend," he replied. Charles' eyebrows shot up. He looked at Erik with an amused smile. "Boyfriend, huh? I didn't know we were already labeling this," he murmured.

Erik nuzzled the side of Charles' face. "I meant what I said back in the cave—I want to be the only one who gets to fuck you…to kiss you…to hold you—you're mine now, Charles," he said possessively. Closing his eyes, Charles let out a shuddering breath as he felt Erik's mouth trail up his neck, to rght behind his ear. "Oh _Erik_."

"Get a fucking tent," 'Someone' with a gruff voice hollered out at them. Charles didn't even spare a glance down at the two morons below; he just looked Erik fondly in the eyes. "Sounds like a good idea," he said softly. "Agreed," Erik said as he hooked an arm around the shorter man and walked him down the hill to their tent.

"Oh," Erik said after a moment, "by the way, I told Raven that you might be their new mommy soon."

Oh.

_Oh._

Wait, what?

…

Charles kissed his way up Erik's long body, working his hands under the man's shirt as Erik laid on his back in the small tent. "Are you sure you want to do it like this?" Erik asked quietly, holding onto Charles' hips while he looked up at the man who was straddling him.

"Well I don't think there's really any other way," Charles said as he whipped his shirt over his head (he managed to get one of his other shirts the second they got back to camp, and he wasn't going to let Erik destroy this one…yet). "And unless you want to do it again in the small, gross, bathroom shower or trek back to that bat infested cave, I'd suggest you shut up and kiss me."

Now, it's not that Erik didn't 'want' Charles to ride him- -because fuck, of course he wanted Charles to ride his cock-it's just, the tent was so small.

"Fuck Charles," he said after the kiss broke, "I can't wait to get that ass of yours in a real bed—the shit I'm going to do to you," he growled out before attacking the brunet's neck. "Mmm," Charles hummed as his eyes closed, "I think I may have to let you." Bringing the smaller man down closer, Erik slid his hand up Charles' back, letting it rest on the back of his neck as he continued his assault on Charles' neck, placing sloppy kisses everywhere he could.

"Mmm, Erik," Charles moaned, "if you want to actually fuck me, I'd suggest you do it now before I come just from this." He gyrated his hips against the older man's, causing Erik to groan.

The words surged through Erik like a hot jolt, making his desire to fuck the younger man even harder to deny. "Damn it Charles," Erik said breathlessly as he looked up at him, "the shit that comes out of your mouth—such a filthy little boy, aren't you?"

Biting his bottom lip into his mouth, Charles rocked his hips back and forth, teasing Erik with the notion of riding him. "You like me being a bad boy?" he said as he rolled his hips forward again, grinding his own erection against Erik's. He leaned down closer to Erik's lips and whispered against them: "Because I can be a filthy little whore if you want," before sealing their lips together in a sloppy kiss that involved tongues.

Well then.

Erik moaned into the kiss before wrapping one arm around Charles' waist, holding him closely, as the other found itself holding onto the back of the brunet's neck, forcing the kiss to last longer than planned. Charles tried to pull away but Erik just held him near, attacking the smaller man's mouth with his tongue.

Once Erik finally did released his grip on Charles, the younger man pulled away with a sharp inhale, looking down at Erik wantonly as he found his breath. "Erik," he rasped, "I think I'd like to ride your cock now."

Oh, oh yes please.

Erik moaned out something that sounded like "Christ O' mighty" before lifting the smaller man off his waist and pushing him over to the side of the tent. "Take off your pants, then I need to get you ready." He starting working on his own pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down until he was just in his boxer briefs. "Do you have any lube?"

Really?

Charles stared at him with a flat look, unblinking. "You're really asking me if I brought lubricant for sex, on a camping trip, with children?" he asked dryly, and, boy, did that sound bad when said out loud.

Returning the dry stare, Erik deadpanned. "I am," he said, "and from what I've learned about you so far, it's a wonder you didn't bring an enco-sized box full."

Hey!... Well, Erik did have him there actually...

Still:

"In my defense," Charles said snappishly, "that was one time, and I knew Steve was coming on the trip, so _sorry_ if I came prepared that time. I didn't think I'd be having a 'special friend' this trip."

"Just, shut up for a minute Charles," Erik said as he ran a hand down his face. Goddamn Steve Rodgers and him and Charles' incidents. He did not want to hear about them. He looked back up at Charles. "Do you have anything we can use?"

Thinking for a moment, Charles snapped his head up after a second. "Hold on—I'll be right back." Erik watched as Charles exited the tent, looking around to make sure no children were present before he and his boner made their presence. Oh god, the horrors that could create.

After a couple minutes, Charles returned with…

...Cooking spray?

Really?

"What?" Charles asked the second he saw the incredulous look the taller man was giving him. "It's vegetable oil, it will work." A shrug. "You have a better idea?" Because Charles would _love_ to hear it.

A chuckle escaped Erik. He simply shook his head. "No Charles, it's fine. It's just... cute, is all—you're very creative." He reached for the other man and brought him closer. "You are however, wearing way too much clothes." He looked down at the counselor's shorts. "Your pants," he said in all seriousness, "lose em'."

Complying quickly, Charles removed the offending article of clothing and Erik made swift work with grabbing and bringing Charles back down on top of him as soon as the pants were gone. Charles' chest hit Erik's and the smaller man let out a yelp that was shortly followed by a soft moan when he felt Erik's finger brush closely to his hole. Erik smirked up at the man above him, faces just inches apart, as he reached for the (sigh)… cooking spray, and applied some to his fingers before returning them back to Charles' entrance.

The second he felt the pressure of two fingers enter him, Charles' eyes closed and a helpless moan drifted from his lips. "Oh Erik, _yes_," he whispered against the other man's skin as he felt the twist of fingers moving in and out of him smoothly. "Feels so good," he breathed.

Erik groaned against Charles' head, feeling his cock pulse against the smaller man from his encouraging words. He reached down with his other hand and grabbed one of Charles' cheeks, spreading it to gain further access inside the man. Charles whimpered (the sound going straight to Erik's cock) and spread his own legs as he continued to lie on top of the taller man, giving Erik even more room to slip his fingers in.

"Bloody hell, Erik," Charles got out. "Please…please let me ride you now." A sharp inhale. "I- I won't last much longer if you keep this up." Just felt too good. Slowing down his fingers, Erik withdrew them after a moment. "Are you sure?" he asked softly. "I don't want you to hurt yourself ridding me."

Lifting his head up off the taller man's chest, Charles panted out: "I'm about to skewer myself on your cock after spraying it with cooking oil—I think I'll be alright."

That... should not have been as hot as it was. Erik cocked an eyebrow. "You done this before or something, Charles?" Jealousy surged through Erik's veins. He was going to kill Steve, whoever the fuck he was.

"No, no, no," Charles said quickly with a head shake, "you'd be the first with the Pam, but not the first cock I've rode. I've done that enough to-"

Quickly, Erik reached down and grabbed Charles' hair, bringing his lips up to meet his in a fierce kiss before he pulled away harshly. "If you keep talking about all the other jackass's cocks you've fucked, I'll have to go kill them all," he said hotly before pushing the shorter man up to where he was straddling Erik's waist again. "Now I'd suggest you ride _my_ cock like you mean it—before I change my mind."

Charles' breath got caught in his throat at Erik's harsh (yet sexy) tone. He quickly worked his way down closer to Erik's knees so he could remove the man's boxer briefs. He rolled them down to Erik's thighs, deciding that was good enough before he repositioned himself over the lovely cock waiting below. He gripped the massive thing in his hand, and lowered himself slowly onto it, taking it inch by inch as the protrusion entered him.

"Oh Charles," Erik moaned out as he placed his hands on either side of the brunet's hips, helping him lower himself down. _God_ it felt so good. So tight, so hot, so perfect.

Once Charles had completely skewered himself onto Erik's cock, the ridding began. He started off slowly at first, ridding Erik's cock like he owned it, one hand on Erik's chest and the other on the ground as he pushed himself up and down. As soon as both men got into the rhythm of things, Erik pushed Charles up to where both of the younger man's hands were planted firmly on his chest, and Erik's hands were firmly around his hips, helping guide him up and down, over and over again over his cock.

If the tent's a rocking, not come a knocking.

"Christ Charles," Erik rasped out, hands moving faster as he helped Charles fuck himself properly. "You look so good ridding my cock." Charles' hair was flopping in his face, damp and curling, as he moved up and down, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he rode the man below him.

Seriously, fucking beautiful.

One of Erik's hands left Charles' hip and wrapped around the man's neglected cock. He started stroking.

"Erik," Charles breathed, "not going to last long," he said between pants. "Good," Erik replied, "neither am I." He stroked Charles' cock quicker. "Come for me Charles—come all over my stomach," he said as his own breathing started to become shallow.

Stomach? With the way Charles was going it would more than likely be the man's chest.

Or face.

Charles shudder in ecstasy at the thought and then sunk himself onto Erik's cock a couple more times before his eyes rolled back into his head. He unloaded his load all over the older man's chest, his come spurting out in long stripes as it coated the man below. A string of profanities tumbled from proper (ha! Erik now knows _that's_ a lie) man's mouth as he rounded his completion, causing Erik, if possible, to become even more aroused. He fucked up into Charles a few more times before he felt his own release build.

And it was over in a flash, Erik groaned loudly as he spilled into Charles, his own set of naughty words leaving his mouth, some in English, some in German and maybe even one or two in Russian, which he picked up from Azazel. A thanks.

Erik's hands flopped down to his sides. He worked on catching his breath as the smaller man above him slid off his cock. Erik let out a hiss as Charles pulled off abruptly and sat down next to the spend man. He looked over at the can of cooking spray.

"So…Pam, who knew?"

Erik chuckled and brought Charles into a quick kiss. "Is that too going to go into your "Incident" log?" Erik questioned with a grin. Nodding, Charles replied: "I do believe so, yes," with a wicked grin.

…

Waking up the next day, Charles noticed something odd. He blinked up at the roof of his tent.

What... what was that? Snow? Did it bloody snow last night? No, that can't be right—it's not cold enough, not even close. It was summer for fuck's sake. He furrowed his brows. Well then what the bloody hell was that white stuff all over their tent?

"Erik," Charles said softly as he nudged the sleeping man beside him, "Erik wake up—there's white stuff all over the top of our tent."

"Charles," Erik mumbled half awake as he rolled over to face the other way, "you're a good aim, but there's no way you shot your load all over the roof of the tent." A yawn. "Stop bragging," he said sleepily before attempting to go back into dreamland. This only prompted Charles to shake the man next to him. "No you twat, I'm not talking about the inside of the tent—I mean the bloody outside! There's some white stuff on the outside of our tent." He gave Erik's ass a good smack. "And it's not my spluge either," he added matter-factly.

Erik finally woke up all the way. He sat up and rubbed his face, giving Charles an annoyed look before he craned his neck to look up at the tent ceiling and-

Oh.

_Ohhh._

Now that 'was' odd. He too furrowed his brows. What was that stuff? Snow? He unzipped the tent flap carefully, sticking only his head out, just to get a glop of shaving cream on his face.

Shaving cream... fucking shaving cream. Really? Someone really shaving creamed their entire tent...

Lovely.

Crawling out and standing, Erik looked at the masterpiece before him as he wiped his face clean... and then to the pile of used shaving cream cans that sat empty on the ground.

What the _fuck_? There must be at least twenty cans there! And upon further inspection, it also appeared that someone had even attempted to draw a picture of a hand giving a crude gesture with the shaving cream as well. Classy.

Some person must have really invested their time in this...

Erik's gaze drifted over to the bus.

Or _persons_.

Charles made his way out of the tent after Erik and stood. His eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. "Whoa, is that...?" "Shaving cream—yeah," Erik supplied dryly, "and I think I know just who's to blame." He headed off toward Azazel's bus.

Logan sat on top of one of his many beer stocked coolers as he dipped his razor into a cup of water, and then dragged it down his face carefully as Erik approached.

"You," Erik said sternly as he made his way over to his "friend", "it was you." He pointed a finger at the shaving man. "What?" Logan said innocently as he rinsed his razor before bringing it to his face again. The mountain man look was getting old on him. Time for clean shaven Logan.

"Don't play coy with me Howlett," Erik said, "I know it was you who shaving creamed our tent—the evidence is all over your face."

Literally.

Still:

"How do you even know it was me?" Logan questioned as he picked up a can of Barbasol, spraying a dollop on his hand before applying it to the other side of his face.

"_Logan,_" Erik snapped, "only you would do this!"

"Not true," Logan pointed out as he begun on the left side of his face. "One of the children could have easily done it as well."

"Really? And one of the children just so happened to bring fifty cans of shaving cream with them?" Erik questioned as he eyed the lunatic before him.

"It was only twenty-five," Azazel said, coming out of his bus. "What?" He shrugged at Erik's glare. "I counted." He then snorted a laugh. "We cleaned that gas station the fuck out," he said as he walked by Logan, who just high fived him.

"You two were meant for each other," Erik grumbled before he stalked back to his and Charles' tent, grabbing a still gaping Charles on the way and dragging him to the shower.

"My god," Charles said in awe as Erik pulled him away, "there's just…so much…"

Logan shouted one last parting gift as Erik strode off, Charles in tow.

"Float Trip today! Whoo!"

Sigh.

Whoo indeed…

TBC


	9. Float Trip!

"Alright! This is seriously cutting into my drinking time," Logan hollered. "Come on everyone, get your ugly mugs on the bus so we can get going."

Coming up behind the foul mouthed man, who may or may not produce a problem in Erik and Charles' upcoming relationship, Charles said: "I hardly think it's necessary to call the children "ugly", it could be bad for their future self-esteem," quietly. Logan barked a laugh. "Na, it'll be alright—it builds character." He ruffled Sean's hair as the boy walked by. "Aint that right, Sean?" he said down to the boy. "My god, you're so ugly you could haunt houses."

Charles' expression turned from horror to terror, but luckily, Sean just beamed up at the mountain man and declared his ever so famous: "Cool!" before hopping on the bus and saying: "Hey everyone, Logan thinks I'm a ghost!"

Charles feared he'd be the first one that the boy would haunt should a series of unfortunate events take place that day.

Not that he was holding his breath or anything...

Carrying the remainder of Logan's coolers, Erik strode up to the back of the bus and placed it on the floor. Horror, no wait: terror, still on Charles' face, he shot Erik a question. "Is that 'all' booze, or did you at least have the decency to get some water and juice for the children."

Erik looked at the three coolers.

_Damn it._

…

One stop at the nearest gas station later for water and other items that didn't induce hangovers, the trip to the river was back on track. Logan torn into a bag of beef jerky like he lived on the stuff. Hm, this would go great in casserole. "Alright," he said around a mouthful of dried cow (Hank cringed), "so what's the strategy for this trip? We all cramming into the same raft and doing a kind of "survival of the fittest" type thing, or we breaking it up into groups?" A pause, in which he chewed loudly before swallowing. "And doing a "survival of the fittest" type things?"

Dear lord!

Charles swore the twisted look of horror was never going to leave his face. Survival of the fittest? What the fuck? Did Logan really think they'd be picking each other off this trip? That there was some sort of prize at the end for whomever survived? This was not the Hunger Games damnit! It was just a goddamn float trip where everyone was expected to live!

Still, he couldn't help but have a quick image of Logan chucking Bobby off the raft before knocking Scott out with one of the paddles. Perhaps leaving John stranded on an island with only one match, and tossing Sean to a hungry bear all while the crazy man held a beer can in one hand, cigar in the other and yelled something along the lines of: "Don't fuck with me mother nature! I'll own you!"

Good god... Charles really needed to stop hanging around Erik so much.

The bus hit a bump in the road and Charles was jolted back to reality. He looked back to Logan and wiped the look of sheer terror off his face. "Well Logan, now that you should ask," Charles said, regaining his composure, "I was thinking this year since we have extra…items (meaning Logan and his three fucking coolers of booze), that we could do things differently. Instead of all of us trying to fit into a raft like we did last year, I was planning on having-"

"I swear to god, Charles…" Hank mumbled in the background, plotting the counselor's slow death.

"-Hank and all the children in a twelve person raft-"

"I hate you," Hank said as he thumped his head onto the seat ahead of him.

"-and Erik and I can share a canoe." He looked at Erik and winked, earning a smile from the taller man. (And there was no way that Charles was hoping to: 1) Try and create his and Erik's own "Canoe Incident", or 2) have all the freaky sex they could whilst in said canoe.

No, because Charles would never do that...

"-and Logan-" Charles looked to the man, who cracked open his first beer—ah, looks like he just couldn't wait til the river after all, "-do you want your own canoe? Or they also have one man kayaks you can rent too." Taking a sip of his beverage, Logan shook his head. "Na, no one man kayak for me—I had a bad experience with one of those bad boys once—almost died." _Really? Logan could die? Charles thought the man immortal._ He smirked and shot a look to Erik.

"Hey!" Erik said, pointing a finger at his friend, "I'm not the one who told you to try and use it as a surfboard as you careened over that waterfall, that was all your doing!"

"Yeah, but you sure did egg me on!" Logan laughed.

"I was drunk," Erik grumbled as he looked away defensively. Also, he may have been throwing beer cans at Logan the whole time, trying to knock him off... it was a waste of beer, now that Erik looks back on it.

"Anyways," Logan said, looking back at Charles, "Azazel and I will be sharing a canoe, along with the coolers. I'm sure we can cram all three coolers and two men into one canoe." He looked up at the man driving the bus. Azazel just gave him a thumbs up through the mirror with a maniacal grin.

"Azazel?" Charles questioned, turning and addressing the driver. "You're going with us this year? I thought you didn't like water." No, no: just holy water. Azazel chuckled. "I don't, but this Logan fellow, I like him," he said as he looked at Charles through the mirror. "I thought it would be fun, try something different."

Fun, huh? Yeah, this outta be interesting. Charles could see it now, the second their canoe topples over from uneven weight distribution, Logan will be diving in after all the beers before they sank, leaving Azazel to drown.

"Good thing beer cans float!" Logan said, as if he read the man's mind, and then gave Charles a slap on the back.

Hmm, Logan must be experienced in Float Tripping.

…

After they got to the raft and canoe rental store, Hank pulled Charles aside as Erik and Logan started unloading the bus.

"Charles, really?" Hank questioned. "You're sticking me with all the kids? On one raft…with no escape?" Giving his friend a beseeching look, Charles simply shrugged. "I'm sorry Hank, I couldn't let Logan do it—he'd either start letting the kids get wasted on beer or chuck them off the float one by one until it were only him and said beer—and I don't know which scenario be worse."

Looking over to where Logan was, Hank nodded. "I suppose you're right—that wouldn't end well either way." He brought his glance back to his friend. "But still, I don't like the idea of Kangaroo Jack and the Devil's Apprentice sharing a canoe together—it gives me the willies." Hank shuddered, as if proving his point.

"Hey!" Logan hollered over, "I'm Canadian—not fucking Australian! Get it right!"

Hank shook his head. "Could have fooled me," he mumbled. Charles smiled. "It'll be alright Hank, we'll have a good time, you'll see." A good time that involved at trip to the local prison later.

"Hey Charles," Logan yelled, "catch!" He tossed the man an already filled flask.

Catching it, Charles gave the man an odd look. He looked at his water-proof watch. "Logan, it's nine in the morning." He glanced at the man, eyebrow cocked. Logan just smiled around his cigar and held up his second beer of the day. "Tell me about it—I got a late start."

Charles blinked

Well, this...this was going be an interesting trip. He took a sip from his flask.

Interesting indeed.

…

Charles was just coming out of the canoe rental shop with one of the employees to help load their raft and canoes onto the trailer when Erik pulled out his pack of smokes and popped one into his mouth.

Sweet nicotine at last.

"Um, excuse me, sir," the canoe rental employee shouted over at him, "there's no smoking on the grounds."

_Goddamn-motherfucking-son-of-a-bitch-cunt-whore_. Erik dropped the lit cigarette out of his mouth and squashed it with his shoe. Stupid anti-smoking laws.

The world fucking hated him, he was sure of this.

Charles looked over at him with such a look of fondness that it shattered Erik's heart.

Scratch that—the world loved him. Only he was lucky enough to have the world's greatest man give him such looks of affection. Everyone else can suck it.

Especially Logan—Logan can suck it hard.

"Ay, what the fuck man?" Logan, speaking of the royal asshole, said from behind Erik. "What are you doing; eye fucking each other? Get over here and help me you last twat." He took a long puff of his cigar and blew the smoke toward Erik.

What the fuck!

Erik snapped his head back around to where Charles and the canoe rental employee were. Why was she not yelling at Logan about his foul cigar? Why only him!?

And of course, she wasn't looking—why would she be? Erik swore it was as if "someone" were out to make sure he never got to smoke one goddamn cigarette this entire fucking trip…

But suddenly, something more important caught Erik's attention.

Laughing—a female was laughing, and it sounded… flirty. Erik's eyes drifted back over to Charles and the canoe rental employee and, yep, sure enough—she was laughing, and... touching Charles' arm.

Touching. Charles'. Arm.

It was time to intervene.

In point 2 seconds, Erik was over by Charles and wrapping a possessive arm around his waist, pulling his man closer and away from the canoe skank's touch. He might have even growled at her in the process.

From the distance, Logan was lucky enough to witness all this first hand too. He gave a good laugh and said: "Oh great, here we go again," up at Azazel, who was still sitting in his driver seat, now joining in on watching the camp time fun festivities unfold as he leaned out his driverside window.

Alex shook his head. "There goes dad and his over protectiveness," he said to Raven, who just smirked. "Daddy only does that when he's in love," she said with a dreamy voice.

Logan's eyebrows shot up and Hank nearly choked to death on his Pepsi.

Well, kids DO say the darndest things…

…

"I hardly think that was necessary," Charles said dryly as he looked over at Erik. They were on a second bus now —not Azazel's— but the one that the canoe rental shop provides to take all the floaters up river to the drop off zone. "What?" Erik asked innocently, sharing a seat with the shorter man. All the kids were crammed in back between Hank, Azazel and Logan—who was still fucking smoking that cigar somehow!

"You didn't have to threaten to rip her arm off," Charles said as he shot Erik a displeased look. Without even turning his head back to look, Erik stuck his hand out in the aisle and caught the beer can that Logan tossed up to him. "She was touching you—I didn't like it," he said as he cracked his beer open and took a sip.

Charles looked back and forth fervently between the beer in Erik's hand and Logan—previous conversation forgotten. "How...how did you-?…but you didn't even…how did you know?" Erik shrugged before taking another drink. "I dunno, Logan and I have this weird connection between us—I just know what he's going to do before he does it." He took another sip, still eyeing Charles.

That could explain why the man's still alive.

"Logan," Erik shouted back, not looking again, "get your head back in the window, there's a close tree branch coming up. It might decapitate you." Decapitation's probably the only was to kill Logan. "You got it boss," the dark haired man acknowledge before he brought his head (and beer clutched arm) back in the bus. Perhaps he was looking for small critters.

"Do I have to come back in the bus as well?" Sean's voice floated up.

Thinking about this for a moment, Erik weighed the pros and cons as he took a sip of beer. And really? What the worst that could happen? I mean sure, the kid could always lose a-

"Christ Sean, get back in the bloody bus!" Charles hollered out, stress level at a nine now. "You'll lose your bloody arm doing that!"

"Not if I was driving," Azazel said, heckling the other driver. It's all about swerving at the right moment.

"No," Hank muttered, "we'd all be dead by now if you were driving." He saw that steep cliff they passed earlier, lord knows Azazel would've taken them 'as close as possible', just to scare them. Hank already knew the fate that would've happened this fine day.

…

Once the bus got to the drop off sight, they all piled off as the canoes and raft were unloaded.

Now the real fun began.

Logan already had his and Azazel's canoe partway in the water and was loading the coolers in, one at a time. Seeing the disaster unfold before his eyes, Charles made his way over with a little advice.

"Um, Logan," he said, watching as the man picked up his second cooler O' beer, "I don't think it's particularly a good idea to load _all_ three coolers in one canoe- -it may be a tad too much weight for it to handle."

Looking down at his canoe, cooler still in hand, he grunted. Good point. "You think I should leave Azazel behind then?"

Oh good Lord.

Charles ran a hand down his face. Really, if the canoe tips, the man's really going after the beer instead of Azazel. "I was going to suggest we put a cooler on each float—three coolers—three rafts—makes sense, right?" He then looked over and saw Sean. The redhead gave him a thumbs up—to what it was in reference to, Charles' hadn't the slightest. He shook his head once and turned back to Logan. "Okay, so maybe not a cooler in the kid's raft, but Erik and I can at least take one."

Logan nodded. "Actually that's a good idea; one cooler per raft— one of these has the kid's crap in it, the water and soda—we'll just put that one on the raft with Hank," because clearly anything without alcohol was just plain offensive to Logan. He looked over to his canoe buddy. "Yo, Az, come help me with the coolers—the one without booze goes on the kiddies' float, and the others go in ours and Charles'."

"There's one without booze?" Azazel questioned up to the men on the riverbank, genuine shock in his voice.

It was time for Charles to make his exit.

…

"You trust me, don't you?" Erik said with a non-trusting smile as he paddled him and Charles' canoe down the river; Charles in front, him in back.

"It's not that I _don't_ trust you, it's just that I'm used to being the one who steers. Really, at least let me help," Charles said, gripping the sides as he faced the other man in the canoe, not wanting to look ahead at the dangers that awaited. Rapids were coming up, he could feel it.

Erik laughed. "Just sit back and relax my dear, let me take charge of this trip, you've had enough stress already. Just enjoy."

Charles couldn't help but wonder if his initial stressed steamed for Erik being there with him this year.

Naaa, of course not.

"Here," Erik said, tossing Charles a beer from one of Logan's many coolers. "Have a drink and take the edge off, and if that doesn't help, I got something else."

Catching the beer, Charles looked at it for a moment. It'd been awhile since he drank straight beer—he wasn't a big fan—but then again, it was a float trip and Hank seemed to be managing all the children just fine. What was one beer? He cracked it open and took a swig. Erik smiled. "There you go," the taller man said, "enjoy yourself, but don't get too sloshed, as I told you before (he lowered his voice to a murmur), I don't want you to passout before I can thoroughly ravish you."

Charles nearly choked on his beer and blushed at the same time. Oh my!

"What the hell?" came Logan's voice, dancing off the water with all its unhappiness. "Why is there nothing but water and soda in this cooler?" He dug around frantically in the ice chest. "I can't live on water!" A faint "Ha!" echoed up his way and Logan had to resist the urge the chuck a bottle of water at Hank's head. Instead he cocked his head towards Erik and Charles' canoe, which was slightly behind his and Azazel's and shouted: "Yo, Lehnsherr—beer me!"

But Erik just shook his head with a smirk. "No way man, these beers are mine and Charles'—looks like you're boned!" He let out a harsh laugh.

Logan's eyes narrowed. No one denies Logan a beer, _ever_.

"Fine," the man grumbled, resisting the urge to back paddle and crack Erik upside the head with said paddle. He turned to the large raft that contained Hank and the children. "Oi! Alex, toss your old uncle Logan a beer would ya?"

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Alex shouted back before reaching into the cooler and throwing Logan a beer.

Great, not only did Logan attempt to give a minor a beer the day before, now he had minors serving him liquor, the man is unstoppable!

"I'm going to act like I didn't see that," Charles mumbled around his own beer can before taking a sip. Erik cracked his open and took a long gulp. "It gets worse, just wait." Then went back to paddling.

Charles wasn't sure if he really wanted to reflect on that statement or not, so he just busied himself with his beverage and the toned muscles of Erik's arms as the Greek God paddled the canoe down river.

It was quite distracting, too.

Erik's arms—not the beer.

Smiling coyly, Charles shot Erik a look of affection. "My god Erik, have I ever told you how ripped you are? Your body is amazing," he purred around his beer.

"Charles," Erik chuckled as he paddled on, "don't tell me you're drunk already."

Leaning back more into the canoe, Charles allowed his body to slip down to the bottom, where he was no longer on the bench seat but lounging on the canoe floor, his feet up and crossed at the ankles. What a lovely trip this was indeed. "No, of course not," he said seductively, "but I don't have to be drunk to know your body is banging."

Body is banging? Who the fuck says that anymore?

"Or that I want to suck your cock."

Oh.

Well, Charles could say that all he wanted.

"Charles," the older man hissed, "you can't be serious." He looked up ahead at their group, who were steadily getting further and further away. "You can't do that now, everyone's sure to see." Smirking, Charles crawled (fucking crawled!) over to Erik, placing a hand on each of Erik's knees. "Says the man who's slowing down," he purred, eyes burning hot up at the other man.

God. Damn. Charles was going to be the death on him.

And it would be a death he enjoyed.

TBC


	10. Float Trip Part 2

Erik nearly chucked the paddle out of his hands and into the water.

Nearly.

Instead, he just tossed it into the (now empty) front of the canoe and watched as both, 1) Hank's raft with all the children and Logan and Azazel's canoe got further and further away in the distance, and 2) Charles crawl his way up to Erik's lap more and blink those fucking sexy blue eyes up at him from between his legs.

Erik didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"Charles," he moaned out hoarsely, "as much as I would love for you to give me head while we floated down this river, I don't think it's the safest route to go. I'd probably steer us into a large branch and capsize us both."

Placing both hands on Erik's shoes now, Charles simply continued to look up at the taller man with life-ruining eyes. "And I'd still be sucking your cock while all that happened," he said lowly. Erik felt a shudder of pleasure run up his body. Good god, what _did_ Charles and Steve Rodgers do in that damn canoe last summer? A surge of jealousy jolted through Erik's body from just the thought.

Fuck it, it didn't matter: Charles was Erik's now, and all Erik knew was that he wanted to beat whatever it was they (Steve and Charles) did and make a better and more memorable canoe incident. "Fine," Erik practically growled, still looking down at the man below him, who was now slowly working his hands up Erik's legs, "but if I crash into something, I'm going to say I told you so."

Smiling in victory, Charles simply said: "Good thing we both know how to swim, because I didn't bother grabbing us lifejackets."

It's true, Erik vaguely remembers the conversation on shore with Sean complaining about why they (the children) had to wear lifejackets but not the adults, only to have Logan answer him with a: "Shut up and put it on."

What? Logan could've said worse...

Coming back to reality, Erik looked up towards the floats ahead of them, watching as they got smaller and smaller, wondering if he should be happy the others haven't noticed they weren't following, or alarmed.

As soon as Charles started mouthing Erik's crotch, he decided to go with "happy". _Oh god._ Charles pulled away after a second, leaned back and grabbed Erik's forgotten paddle. He handed it back to the man above. "Here," he said, "I think we gave them a well enough head start. Just keep the pace nice and slow, much like how I'll be sucking your cock, and we should be just fine."

"Jesus Charles," Erik murmured as he watched Charles place more sloppy kisses to the fabric of his jeans. So sexy.

"Would you mind terribly," Charles said between kisses, "if I removed these blasted things?" He blinked up at Erik. "They seem to be preventing me from doing what I do best." Cock sucking champion, he was.

"Oh Charles," Erik groaned, "you do so many things the best, don't just limit yourself to fellatio." He ran a hand down the smaller man's face, causing a needy whimper to leave Charles' lips. "Take right now for example; you're giving me _the_ sexiest look I've ever seen." He could come from just that. "I'm seriously considering turning this boat around and heading back to shore just so I can throw you down and fuck you on the riverbank."

A shudder ran through Charles and his eyes slid shut. "Oh Erik," he breathed before his eyes flashed back open and up to the man before him. So bad did he want to be fucked on the riverbank. "We have plenty of time for 'that' later on, right now I just want that marvelous cock of yours in my mouth."

Erik couldn't say no if he tried (and why would he?), so instead, he spread his legs further apart for Charles and let the man nestle right between them as he continued his mouthing torment—driving Erik madly insane with want.

"Okay, fuck this," Erik said impatiently as he started undoing his pants, "I can't take anymore of your damn teasing." He pulled his erect cock out. "Get that fucking sexy mouth of yours over here." Charles' own cock pulsed a little at Erik's command, he had no idea Erik could be so domineering.

Lowering his mouth down further, Charles' tongue darted out and licked quickly over the tip of Erik's cock, causing the man above to whimper shamelessly.

"Yes Charles—more."

Obeying, the smaller man placed both hands now on Erik's knees, settling comfortably between his legs, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece. Using his wicked tongue again, Charles licked a slow path up Erik's shaft, taking care to look him in the eyes the entire journey up. Once he reached the tip, he placed a single, wet kiss to it. That filthy boy.

Erik— almost forgetting where the fuck he was; a canoe, he had to remind himself, he was in a fucking canoe— soon realized that they were drifting slowly to the side of the river.

Oh.

"Um Erik," Charles said, he too sensing the collision with the fallen tree they were headed towards, "I hate to be the mood killer here, but if you don't start paddling soon we might crash."

Snapping his head to the shore before returning his gaze to the man below him, Erik just said: "Well I'm sorry—I'm not used to having to guide a canoe down a river whilst having my cock sucked." There was no real bite to it though. Charles just smiled. "I'm not technically sucking your cock yet..."

"Yes," Erik said as he regained his composer and begun to row them away from certain death (okay 'death' might have been a bit much). "About that…" he eyed Charles with a grin.

"Ah, yes," Charles said with a smirk, "as I recall: nice and slow?"

Moaning something that sounded like: "fucking Gott be with me", Erik tried his darnest to look ahead at the river and not down at the filthy little cock-sucker beneath him.

It was, difficult.

Charles' slow head-bobs were very distracting, especially when he would deliberately swallow Erik to the point of gagging, hold it there for a moment as tears filled in his eyes, before slowly as fuck dragging his lips back down Erik's long cock as the tears spilled down his face.

"Christ on a stick," Erik bit out lowly, "how the hell am I supposed to focus on rowing (or anything) with you doing shit like that?" Pulling off Erik's cock with a wet pop, Charles gasped, and then addressed the man above with a smirk only a good little cock-sucker could give. "Shall I stop?"

As if Erik would ever let that happen. He grit out harshly: "I'd rather crash us into that large rock up ahead before I let that happen, now get your mouth back on my cock and suck it like you know you want to."

A small shiver surged through Charles' body. His eyelids half closed as he felt his own erection call attention to him by pressing itself firmly against his shorts. "Erik," he gasped, and brought his eyes back up to the older man. "Can I… can I touch myself while I suck you off?" It was almost a whisper.

Erik looked down and arched an eyebrow. "You want to masturbate while you suck my cock? (Charles really had to ask?) You are a filthy little whore, aren't you?"

Looking up wantonly at the taller man, Charles nodded his head quickly. His tongue slid out and ran across his bottom lip as he palmed himself through his pants, showing Erik just how hard and horny he was for him. "Oh Charles," Erik said gruffly, "that's so hot." He watched Charles rub his strained erection for a moment, and then:

"But no," he said suddenly, causing a frown to form over the brunet's face. "You don't get to touch yourself until I come down your throat." Charles whimpered. "You suck my cock first, and suck it well, and then I'll let you get off." He brought Charles' head back to his cock before adding: "And maybe after, I'll even help you."

Another needy moan left Charles' mouth before he engulfed the cock before him, sucking greedily as he looked up at Erik, who was tangling his fingers in Charles' hair. Erik slowed the man's sucks down. "No-no, Charles," he chided, "slowly," he reminded him.

Steadying his movements down to a more acceptable speed, Charles continued to bathe Erik in pleasure with his mouth. Nice and slow.

"Mmm, that's good Charles." The older man hummed his appreciation as his eyes slid shut while his hand tangled more and more in the brunet's lovely hair. Just long enough for pulling.

"Erik, tree," Charles choked out quickly enough to evade certain death before going back to the task at hand. He retook Erik's cock in his mouth and gave another long and tedious suck, dragging his tongue along the bottom.

"Oh right," Erik said as almost an afterthought and steered them away from the fallen birch tree. He got them back on track and started heading down the river again, after the rest of their group, who were now for sure, more than likely wondering where the two stragglers disappeared to.

Well it was none of their damn business!

…

"Beer me," Logan yelled and Sean jumped to and tossed his new idol a can. "Best trip ever." Logan smirked at Azazel as he lounged back in their canoe and let the Russian do all the work.

"So this is vhat all you Americans get so excited about every Labor Day," Azazel said with his own smirk as he paddled the canoe. "It is fun—I see now vhat all the hype is about," he concluded.

"We don't normally have minors serving us beer," Hank pointed out, dryly.

…

Charles' lips ran smoothly across Erik's shaft, coating it even more with warmth and wetness, and it felt so fucking good that Erik was positive it would be the death of him.

Hmm, Erik never thought he'd meet his fiery demise from crashing a canoe into a tree/rock/another canoe/moose (moose?—do they have moose here?) as he received a blowjob. He looked down and watched with lust filled eyes as Charles worked his perfect mouth over his cock as slowly as he could. The _tease_. It was almost too much, almost too slow. Erik had evil thoughts of grabbing the counselor's head and just forcing him to go faster. He wanted so bad to fuck Charles' mouth again, just like the first night when they were both stoned.

_Oh._ About that, Erik was just reminded of the joint that Logan had slipped him right before they got on the river. He smiled. Erik loved that man (sometimes), he even remembered to place it in a plastic baggy incase of capsizile.

Which has happened, before... what a good way to ruin a new pack of smokes, too.

Without disturbing Charles' pleasure giving, Erik reached down into his pants, which were pooled around his ankles, and pulled out the item he was looking for. Charles pulled away and furrowed his brow. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing dear," Erik said sweetly as he felt around for his lighter, "just go back to doing what you were doing—it feels absolutely amazing." He placed the joint in his mouth and lit it.

"Erik!" Charles hissed as his eyes widened. "Is that another one of those... marijuana cigarettes?"

Trying very hard not to roll his eyes at the man who clearly wasted the best years (high school) of his life on science, Erik blew out a stream of smoke before handing it down to Charles. "You want to take a real hit this time?"

Charles stared at it for a moment, unsure what to say.

"Come on Charles, either put the joint in your mouth or my cock—it's up to you, but my dick's getting lonely and I'm itching for another hit." Erik raised his eyebrows.

Charles swallowed. He looked at the joint held out before him and shook his head. "Can we do it like we did the first night, shotgun it?" He asked bashfully, and so what if he just wanted to kiss Erik again, so sue him. Erik let out a sharp laugh. "Of course," he said as he brought the joint back up to his lips and inhaled deeply. Charles came up as Erik brought his face down closer, capturing Charles' lips fully. He blew a steady stream of smoke into the brunet's mouth, causing Charles to cough a bit.

Erik pulled back and smiled at Charles. "You okay?" he murmured.

Charles nodded then exhaled. He soon realized that he'd left Erik's cock unattended for quite some time now and went back to sucking. Charles Xavier does not leave a task unfinished. Erik moaned as he looked down at Charles. It was about this time that he realized (once again) he was not paddling the canoe and they were drifting straight for land.

"Land hoe!" Logan would yell if he were there, and then make a sexist joke about Emma. The bastard.

Fuck it, Erik thought as he placed the joint in his mouth and grabbed the paddle. He took them closer to shore and wedged them between a fallen tree and a large boulder.

Smoking a joint, getting head and trying to row a canoe was just too many goddamn things to try and do at once, he concluded. And if Charles noticed, he didn't say anything—maybe he didn't care, or maybe he was already high—who fucking knew? He just remained focused on making Erik's cock disappear and reappear from his mouth as Erik made damn sure they weren't going to float away.

Charles ran his lips teasingly slow over the other man's shaft as said other man took a deep inhale from his joint. He held the breath in and nudged Charles with his knee, causing him to look up. Erik leaned in closer and Charles removed the cock from his mouth just long enough to take another shotgun from Erik before replacing his lips back to where they belonged.

At least Erik liked to think Charles' lips belonged wrapped around his cock. They sure as shit felt fucking amazing there.

"Fuck my life, Charles," Erik moaned out slowly as he tipped his head back, enjoying every blissful second of this trip. "You're so fucking good at this, you know?"

Charles just looked up into the taller man's bloodshot eyes, still running his mouth tediously slow over his erection. He could suck Erik's cock all day long—and he just might do so. He hummed his agreement before he brought one hand up to wrap around the thick base, stroking in time with his sucks.

Erik moaned and tangled his hand in the brunet's hair again, forcing his head movements to gain speed. _God, he just needed it faster now_. Charles complied and sped up his hand strokes as well, like the good little cock slut that he was.

And the fucking noises coming from the younger man's mouth was enough to make Erik have to grip onto the side of the canoe, to stop himself from falling in (what? It's happened before). He focused on keeping the joint between his lips, one hand firm on Charles' hair and the other tightly on the side of the canoe.

Again, it was a bit too much for Erik to try and do all at once, and now throw being high into the mix and it was just borderline dangerous. He removed his hand from the side of the canoe and took another hit before forcefully removing Charles' head from between his legs and pressed their lips together to blow another stream of smoke into Charles' mouth.

Before Charles even had time to register that he no longer had a cock in his mouth, he was inhaling a steady flow of smoke, coughing slightly when Erik pulled away.

"Are you high, Charles?" Erik asked with tranquility. Charles matched Erik's goofy grin and looked up at him. "I think I am," he declared.

"Good," Erik murmured and used the hand still behind Charles' head to bring the man back down to his cock. "Then finish me off, darling," he said as he blew the cherry off the remainder of the joint and set it down.

Charles went back to work, drawing more lovely sounds of approval from the man above, and when Erik's hand tightened in his hair Charles knew he was close. He sped up and flashed his eyes up at Erik just in time to see the pure look of ecstasy filter over his face as he came down Charles' tight throat.

Finally, Erik released his hold on the brunet's hair and looked down with heavy lids as he worked on catching his breath. Goddamn Charles knew how to suck a mean cock.

"Swear to God, Charles," he said breathlessly, "you give the best fucking blowjobs ever." Charles beamed with pride but was still painfully aware of his own hard-on, which was becoming uncomfortable. "Please Erik," he groaned, touching himself through his pants, "I won't take long."

"Fuck, that's right," Erik said as if he'd almost forgotten. He grabbed Charles' by the upper arm and hoisted him to his knees. In one fluid motion, Erik ripped Charles' shorts and boxers down before grabbing ahold of his throbbing hard-on. Charles cried out in pleasure as Erik began to stroke him quickly, his hand pumping around his plump cock like it was all he could to do.

Erik kept his hand tight around the brunet's arm, to steady him, as he worked him to completion. Charles placed his forehead against Erik's shoulder and buried his face as he gasped; mouth open and eyes closed.

"Come on, Charles," Erik rasped out as he sped his hand up. "Come for me—come all over this damn canoe. I want you to ruin it just like I ruined you with my cock up your ass." Charles' eyes screwed shut even tighter as he moaned out one final time, and came in long spurts, coating Erik's hand and the benchseat that Erik was on.

"That's a good boy, Charles," Erik praised as he worked the man through his release. "Get your load all over the place—that's so fucking hot—I'm going to make you lick it all up once you're done, too."

Letting out one last whimper, and one last spurt of come, Charles panted against Erik's neck. Good lord that was intense. Erik brought him into a crushing kiss before pulling away and grinning at the younger man.

"Back on your knees, Charles," Erik ordered as Charles sunk back down until his ass hit the back of his ankles. He looked up at Erik, wanton deep in his blue eyes, and awaited his next command.

Erik ran a hand down Charles' face, causing the other man to lean into the touch. "Looks like you have a mess to clean up," he said softly, voice rich with lust. "Better get started—I'll get us caught up to the rest of the group in no time—don't want all of them to see what a naughty boy you are, on your knees, cleaning up all the come that I pulled from you. You have a reputation to remain—Camp Counselor Charles," and he said the last part mockingly with a filthy grin, like he _didn't_ love Charles being a little cock slut for him.

Charles moaned hotly and looked down at the mess he'd made as Erik started rowing them back down the river ( and how he managed to get them unstuck from the rock and the hard place while high is still a mystery).

"Oh, and Charles," Erik said as he looked briefly down at the man below, "don't forget: tongue only."

_Oh god_.

TBC


	11. Float Trip Part 3

A loud belch echoed off the water, signaling Logan's need for a new beer. He cracked one open the second it flew his way, the man catching it one-handed.

"Seriously Logan," Hank shouted over, "why don't we just switch coolers—I'm a little alarmed at the fact that Sean seems to know _exactly_ when you need a new beer."

Taking another long drink, Logan just smiled proudly. "And he'll make a good bartender one day because of that," (or drug dealer, whatever) he said more to himself than Hank. Azazel simply nodded in agreement. "Or a pitcher, with the way his throws are going," the Russian added.

Logan sat up and looked over towards the kid's float. "Hey Sean, Azazel's right; you got a good arm on ya, kid." He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the boy (or as he liked to think of him: "Minnie Logan"). "How are your punches?"

"Logan!" Hank snapped.

Before Logan even had the chance to tell the big ass cub scout to calm down- -that he was only kidding (he totally wasn't kidding)- -Raven's voice broke through the riverbend.

"Where's my dad and Camp Counselor Charles?"

Hm, good point. Hank looked around, noticing their absences. "Goddamn it Charles," he muttered. Does not get paid enough for the shit...

A snort left Logan as a smile spread over his knowing face. "Those horny bastards."

"Do you think they're okay?" Alex asked Hank, concert written on his face. "Should we go back and look for them?"

If possible, Hank was now paddling even faster down river. "I'm sure they're just fine," he said dryly. Charles was such a whore sometimes. "But what if a bear got them?" Raven asked with a wobbly lip. Hank resisted the urge to roll his eyes and say: "Then we'd count it as a blessing."

"There are no bears in the river, stupid," Bobby said. Alex splashed him with water. "Hey! Don't call my sister stupid, _stupid_!" Nice comeback Alex, nice.

"Bears can swim!" Kitty said, looking at Hank with big eyes. "It could've happened!" She huddled closer to Anna Marie.

"Do you really think a bear got them?" Scott asked Hank, a little fear showing in his eyes too.

Jesus Christ. This time Hank did roll his eyes. "For the love of God, a bear did not get them; we didn't hear any blood chilling screams did we?"

At that, Raven started to cry. _Damn it._

"If we see a bear," Darwin started, all excited, "I would totally jump out of this raft and swim over to it and beat it up!" And then bring the pelt back for Angel, as a rug. She would totally have to go out with him after _that_.

"You would totally die," John said with the roll of his eyes. Hank let out a sigh with a quiet: "Why me? Why am I stuck in a raft with nine children while Charles is more than likely getting a hummer from Erik?"

Not quite right Hank…

…

"That's a good boy, Charles," Erik said thickly, voice laced with arousal. He rowed down the river. "Lick it all up, every last drop." He looked up. "Oh, I think I see the others coming into view, quickly now, love."

"God Erik," Charles said between laps, "I think I'm hard again." Damn seductive talking German. He gazed up at the older man with searing blue eyes before licking up a spot near the inside of Erik's thigh.

Erik continued to push the canoe down river with his paddle, looking straight ahead. "Sorry Charles, we don't have time for round two." He looked down at the man between his legs and smirked. "Yet." He then returned his gaze on the water. "But don't worry— I plan on fucking you so hard over a log that your hands get bark burn."

Bark burn? That sounds less than pleasant.

Charles swallowed and pushed himself up from the canoe floor. He looked off in the distance and sure enough saw the others coming into view. "Come on, Erik," he pleaded as he sat opposite to the other man; facing him. "We still have time, you can at least rub me off before we catch up."

"No, Charles," Erik told him as he focused on the river (and not on his own cock growing hard again, _damn it_ Charles). "I already told you: first chance we get, I'm fucking your ass over a log—you can come again then."

"Then what am I supposed to do with _this_?" Charles said, motioning down to his returned hard-on.

Erik smirked. He was proud.

"Here," Erik said, handing Charles the forgotten joint, "smoke some more of this, it will help."

Taking the joint from the other man's hand, Charles gave him a skeptical look. "I don't know Erik, I'm already kind of high. You really think I should smoke some more?" Erik grinned. "You're not high, Charles—you're just a little buzzed. Take a hit, it'll help." Erik would know, he is an expert at this. "I'd rather not take a direct hit. I like shot gunning it better." Charles told him bashfully, looking down at the canoe's floor.

Erik's grin only widened. He looked at the brunet. "You just like kissing me," he said matter of factly.

Charles blushed.

"Come here, Charles," Erik said with a sexy smirk. "Of course I'll shotgun it to you, baby." _God_ Charles was cute.

"We'd better be quick then," the counselor said, looking behind himself, "I can see Hank…and it looks as if he's showing us an inappropriate hand gesture." Well, how _rude_.

Placing the joint between his lips and lighting it, Erik mockingly said: "And in front of the children too? How dare he?" before inhaling and leaning in closer to Charles. The younger man practically engulfed Erik's lips as he blew smoke into Charles' mouth. Charles then pressed firmly against Erik's lips kissed him as he exhaled all the smoke, letting it seep through the cracks between the corners of their mouths.

"Charles," Erik said as he pulled away, "I thought you were trying to make your pants problem go away—not give me one as well."

"Sorry," Charles breathed, "I just can't resist your lips." Or anything on the man really. He looked deeply into the taller man's eyes. Erik ran a hand down Charles' cheek and Charles leaned into it before placing his own hand over Erik's, capturing it in place. "Erik," he said softly, "I know it may be soon, but I think I may be fall-"

"Hey ass clowns!" Logan's voice skipped down the river and smacked both Erik and Charles like a hand in the dark. "Where have you been? Raven's crying because she thinks a goddamn bear ate your asses. I tried to tell her there's no way a bear would eat Erik because there's not enough meat on his bones, but that just made her cry even more." He shrugged in defeat. What's a man to do?

Erik's head immediately shot upon hearing that his daughter was crying. Charles sat back, whatever he was going to say forgotten. Flicking out the cherry on their joint, Erik handed it to Charles. "Here, put this some place safe," he said and then started paddling quickly.

"It's okay, Raven," Hank said as he tried to comfort the little girl. "Your father's just fine," he assured her, and then spotted the oncoming canoe, both jerks inside. "Look, he's right there." He pointed at them. "In fact," Hank said dryly, "he's probably better than 'just fine'." The _ass._

"This is so cool!" John cried out as he and Scott paddled the large raft from the back while Alex and (shudder) Sean got the front. And why Hank thought it would be a good idea to give the redhead boy a long, blunt instrument- -which could potentially be turned into a weapon at any given moment- -he'll never know. (Then again, two days with Logan and you could learn how to turn anything into a weapon.) He just wanted a break from paddling _goddamn._

"I want a paddle too," Darwin complained loudly.

"Me too! Why does everyone else get to paddle but us?" Bobby asked, looking at Hank.

Rolling his eyes before looking away from a still sniffling Raven, Hank hollered over at Logan and Azazel's canoe. "Hey, let me get your extra paddle." And then dryly: "Seeing how Logan doesn't seem to be using it correctly." Or at all.

Logan held it up. "Trade ya for a beer!"

"Deal!" Darwin said as he opened the cooler and reached in. _Oh god, more minors serving beer._ He tossed a cold one to the burly man as Sean complained: "Hey! That's my job." Logan caught the beer and tossed the paddle over to Darwin, who caught it with a smile. He took his spot in the middle and joined in on the rowing.

Kitty and Anna Marie wanted absolutely nothing to do with rowing, much to Hank's relief. They were both quite happy to just lie out and work on their tans.

And what eight and nine year old girls need a tan for, Hank will never know. He shook his head.

"What about me?" Bobby asked with a pout.

Hank sighed.

"Sorry bub, that's all we got," Logan offered with a shrug before cracking open what was sure to be his 50th beer. Christ.

But before Bobby could pitch a fit that was sure to throw Hank into early retirement, he looked at the boy and said: "Hold on—I got an idea," and leaned over the side of the raft and into the water.

Moments later, Bobby was happily rowing along with the others, using a large piece of driftwood ( which Sean was eyeing with envy now).

Well _what_? It worked.

This was also about the time that Erik and Charles had caught up. As soon as their canoe was along side of the children's raft, Raven jumped over- -freaking out everyone from Erik to Azazel- -and landed in their canoe safely. She wrapped herself around Charles first and let out a sob. "I'm so glad you're both safe. I thought a bear ate you." She looked over at her father. "You didn't get attacked by a bear, did you?"

"No bears in the river," John's annoyed voice floated over.

Erik shook his head. "Of course not, darling," he said gently as she came over and wrapped her arms around him next. Raven pulled away and looked up at her father after a moment, crinkling her nose. "You smell like smoking-" she sniffed again, "-and drinking." She looked back to Charles. "So do you."

"Oh, um.." Charles looked guilty as all living sin and Logan just let out a bark of laughter, because, let's face it: he's a prick like that. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Charles mumbled, looking anywhere but the little girl across from him.

Raven looked back at her dad. "Are you sure he can be our new Mommy? Real mommy doesn't drink, or smoke." She just sips on martinis with class.

Erik face palmed. "Love, I didn't mean Charles was going to be replacing Emm- mommy; I just meant that he may be like a 'second' mommy one day."

The look of endearment on Charles' face was priceless.

Either that or he was just fucking high.

...Probably fucking high.

"Do I have to call him "second mommy", or "mommy number two"?" Raven asked.

Now Charles just looked annoyed. Why was he always the girl? If he had to prove his manliness right here, he would. Hell, he'd even whip out his huge-

"No, darling," Erik said as he shook his head. "You can call him whatever you want. For know, you can just stick with Charles, or Mr. Xavier, or-" Erik looked up at Charles and smirked, "-Triple C." (Charles may have flipped a rude hand gesture the older man's way when no one was looking.)

"Saw that!"

Okay, so Logan was looking.

"What if I want to call him Papa, or Father?" Raven questioned softly. Erik's pretty sure his heart skipped a beat. He looked fondly at her and then brought her back into a hug. "Oh darling, that would be just fine… as long as Charles is okay with it." He glanced back up at Charles, who looked positively stoned- -lightweight- -and pulled Raven back to look at her. "But I think we should maybe wait on calling him that until a little longer down the road—we only just started dating," he told her.

That and, he really didn't want Raven running to Emma and saying: "Mommy- mommy! We have a second mommy now and he's a boy!" before Erik could have the proper equipment (camera, boom mic, a backup camera… _Logan_, popcorn, etc) on hand and ready for what was sure to be Emma's first real panic attack.

Not that he would ever wish harm on his ex-wife…*Cough*

Raven gave kind of a small, sad look. "I know," she said softly, "it's just that… I really like Charles and if I had to pick another mommy for you to marry—I'd pick him." She blinked up at her father.

_Oh_, the endearment.

Erik does 'not' cry. Erik was 'not' going to cry. But what his daughter said was so sweet that he thought he might have to look away. That and, the sun was making his eyes water for some reason…darn sun…

"I like Charles, too," Erik said gently to his daughter before smiling up at the man they were talking about. Charles grinned back stupidly, all teeth and swaying slightly to the left.

Right, he was stoned. He may need a reminder of this conversation later.

Charles laid back in the canoe, suddenly feeling very relaxed and tired—but more importantly—very relaxed. He blinked up at the sky and mumbled: "I think I love that man and his family," before he closed his eyes and began to doze. Nighty-night now.

Logan looked at his watch. "11:45am and Charles is first out," he announced. Azazel just grumbled as he fished around in his pocket before handing Logan a twenty. He couldn't have made it until noon.

"Daddy? Is Charles okay?" Raven asked as she looked to her sleeping counselor. "Just fine, darling," he told her. He hoped he was fine. "Do you want to stay in my canoe or go back with the rest of the kids?"

Raven looked over at the raft in question. Sean was paddling like a madman, splashing water everywhere and causing it to go in circles as the others yelled at him to slow down- -while also trying desperately to straighten out the raft as Kitty and Anna Marie shrieked. Hank was flailed around in the middle, using very colorful language, and of course Logan was just yelling: "Ay! Be careful! My beer's in there!"

She looked back at her dad. "I think I'll stay in here with you and Charles," she concluded."

"Good choice," Erik said as he paddled off, leaving the others behind to their hilarity and chaos.

…

"Can we stop there?" Alex asked Hank, pointing to the small beach coming up.

Hank, after getting the raft situation under control by taking the paddle away from Sean and giving it to Bobby, thus giving Bobby's stick to Sean- -then realizing what a terrible, horrible idea that was- - before retaking the stick away from a smiling Sean and chucking it far, far away, looked up at the land ahead. He looked over to Azazel, who simply gave a head nod, while Logan let out another award winning belch- -which Hank took as a yes- -and glanced back to Alex. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Dad," Alex yelled up to his father and Raven, who were just slightly ahead of the group. "We're stopping at that beach right there."

"Okay," Raven shouted back, giving her brother a wave. Erik eyed the woods surrounding the beach and a smirk formed over his face. He looked down at Charles. He's had enough time to sleep off his high, Erik decided wickedly. "Raven dear, "he said, "would you kindly wake Charles for me? I think he'll want to see this beach."

The little blonde looked back at her snoring counselor. "How do you want me to wake him? He looks really out of it, like how uncle Logan looks after a night of-"

"I can help you with that," came Logan's voice (speak of the drunk), as Azazel paddled them closer. Smirking like a man with a bad idea- -big surprise- -Logan took a puff of his cigar before handing it to Azazel. He then stood up and jumped over to Erik's canoe, causing the small boat the rock back and forth violently. Erik yelled at the maniac that they were going to tip over from all the extra weight as he held on to the sides for dear life. Raven just laughed and held on too as she watched her uncle Logan commandeer their vessel. Just like Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean!

"Don't worry," Logan said to Erik, "it's about to get a whole lot lighter in here."

Before Erik could question what the fuck that had meant, Logan had already picked up a passed out Charles and unceremoniously dumped his body into the river.

The river!

"Logan!" Erik yelled out at his bastard of a friend before he stood up, jumping in after Charles. And he was pretty sure he heard Sean's squeaky voice say its trademark: "Cool!" before he hit water.

He'll hurl something at the boy later—possibly a snake— Charles was his number one priority at the moment.

Luckily, yet embarrassingly, for Erik, the man had clearly overreacted to the situation. 1) Charles could swim / was an excellent swimmer, and 2) had woken up the second his body hit the water, jolting him awake with a start.

Both men bobbled in the water, looking at each other as Logan cackled in the background, pointing and laughing like the asshole he was.

"Erik." Charles said while looking at the wet man across from him.

"Charles." Erik acknowledged back.

Logan hopped to Erik's vacant spot in the canoe and truly commandeered his boat this time by paddling away with Raven still aboard. "See you on the beach, losers!" he tossed their way as he floated off gracefully.

Well, as gracefully as a drunken moron in a canoe could.

Which was not gracefully at all, in fact. Charles watched the physco who dumped him in the river, and then stole their canoe, float away. He looked back to Erik. "You jumped in after me." It wasn't a question.

Erik nodded. "I may have... overreacted," he admitted.

A smile formed over Charles' face. "You were going to save me," he said, looking lovingly at the man across from him. Erik, if possible, blushed (but he swears it was just a bit of sunburn on his cheeks so _shut up_.) "I was," he muttered.

Charles came closer to him. "Well you still can if you want to," he murmured as he swam into Erik's arms and pressed their lips together.

Holding the smaller man tightly, Erik kissed back, wrapping both arms around Charles' waist as they waded in the river and, ew, river water.

Suddenly, a beer can plopped down next to them with a splash and bobbled in the water. Erik pulled away from Charles and eyed the floating beverage suspiciously before looking back at his commandeered canoe.

"There are two of us you know!" he shouted at Logan.

A moment later, a second beer can plopped down next to them and Erik grabbed it out of the water and handed it to Charles. "Here you go, love," he muttered to the brunet, still hating Logan and all his Loganess.

Charles smiled at him as he accepted the beer. "My hero," he said softly as Erik started swimming them to shore, beer cans and all.

The beach was going to be fun, but the woods were going to be _especially_ fun.

TBC


	12. Float Trip Part 4

**A/N: Snake-kabob anyone?**

The beach was, as expected, a beach. The kids took great joy in running around and throwing rocks and sand at each other (Bobby, Scott and Alex) and collecting shells and pretty rocks (Kitty, Anna Marie and Raven) and trying to start a fire from dried branches and driftwood (John—who else?), as well as going exploring (Darwin) and let's not forget tormenting a turtle…

"Sean! Leave that turtle alone," Hank shouted over at the boy, who had a stick in one hand and an empty Doritos bag in the other, and, seriously; what the fuck was he hoping to accomplish there?

"But I wanted to make turtle soup," the redhead said as he slowly backed away. Hank wasn't even going to dignify that with a response. Instead, he just walked over to John and ripped the lighter from his hand just as the boy was attempting to start his fire.

"Hey!" He cried out as Hank stalked off with said lighter.

"Too young to have lighters," Hank let drift over his shoulder as he walked away.

Looking sad, John stared at his pile of twigs and wood. He had been so proud of it, too.

"Hey kid," Azazel said, and then tossed him a new lighter. "And I got more where that came from too."

John beamed. "Thanks!"

This was about the time that Erik and Charles had finally made it to shore. Erik, soaking wet from head to toe, walked straight up to Logan, who was leaning against a tree, beer in hand and cigar in mouth.

Logan eyed his wet friend, taking a puff. "Took ya long enough," he concluded.

Trying very hard NOT to punch his friend (and that term is very questionably right now) in front of a group of children, Erik glared at the man before him. "You tossed Charles off a canoe," he said sternly, and, yeah; Logan knows this—he was there.

"I didn't 'toss' him, I dumped him, there's a difference," Logan pointed out, because let's face it: the man's _still_ an ass.

Erik deadpanned before pressing on. "You then stole my canoe, and rowed off without us." And Jesus, hearing it said out loud like that makes it sound as if Logan did something terrible, like set fire to an orphanage or something, fuck.

"Stole is such a harsh word, I would say 'commandeered'." Logan also pointed out, and, is there a point to this?

"Same thing," Erik snapped.

"Hey! I threw you some beers," Logan said defensively in his defensive... it was a weak defense.

"You rowed off with my daughter!" Erik continued, annoyance growing thick in his voice.

"My niece." Logan shot back and crossed his arms. Jesus, wasn't the man getting laid regularly now? Shouldn't he be much happier?

Erik ran a tired hand down his face. He wasn't drunk enough for this shit…

Actually, he wasn't drunk at all. That water sobered him up quite nicely. Now where was that damn flask Charles had earlier? Erik turned and stalked off, leaving Logan with one last parting message.

"I'll get you back for that Logan—you can count on that."

Logan took a puff of his cigar and grunted. He wasn't scared of the German.

…

"Ah! Here it is," Charles said as he came up from the canoe and handed Erik the flask of vodka that Azazel had proved him with. "I thought I stashed it under the seat."

Erik smiled and grabbed the flask before helping Charles back up, the shorter man coming face to face with Erik as soon as he found his feet again, their lips inches apart.

"Hi," Charles said with a smile.

"Hey," Erik replied softly, before leaning in and capturing the brunet's lips.

They kissed carelessly for a moment, before a shrieking sound pierced through the air. Erik pulled away with a sigh and looked over to the shoreline, where the girls were. No doubt by the falsettos of said shriek, it was one of them.

That or Hank.

"Ahhh! A snake! A snake! Kill it!" Kitty cried out as she pointed in horror at the reptile.

"Holy shit," Logan said as he too spotted the snake in the river. "That's a water moccasin. Stay away from that snake kids (except for Sean, where's Sean?), it's poisonous as hell." He put a hand on Raven's chest and pushed her back a bit.

"I wanna see," Darwin yelled as he came tumbling through the trees and down to the shoreline. Like hell he was going to miss this! Wait until he tells Angel how close he got to a deadly snake!

"Not too close," Hank warned as the boys got closer.

"Cool," Sean said as he too joined in on the viewing.

Slowly, a stick appeared out of nowhere and inched its way closer to the snake.

Hank slapped the stick out of Sean's hand without even looking.

"I heard that water moccasins, or, more commonly known as: cottonmouths, generally grow up to 30 inches in length, but the specimens of the Western can get up to 54 inches, and in extreme cases can measure up to six feet in the Eastern!" Bobby said, and, since when did he become a mister-know-it-all?

"Ew! I don't care!" Anna Marie said from behind Hank. "Just kill it already!"

"No," Alex said, giving her a look that only an annoyed eleven year old boy could give to a petty nine year old girl. "Don't kill it—it's not hurting anything." God, what was up with girls and their "ew, squish it" mentality?

But just then, Azazel came barreling down to the water's edge, large hunting knife clutched between his teeth, and dove straight in the water, yelling like a fucking madman the whole time.

What was sure to be a spectacular display in feats of strength (or a traumatizing experience for young children), took place as Erik and Charles made their way closer to all the commotion, and now what sounded like even more screaming (goddamn it Hank, calm down, it'll be all right).

They arrived just in time to witness Azazel emerging from the water, large hunting knife in one hand and dead snake in the other. He gave another one of his battle cries and threw the lifeless reptile to the ground in what was sure to be a great victory in the crazy Russian's head.

"Do you have to do that every time?" Hank asked dryly. And poor Sean, he just couldn't seem to get his excitement under control. The boy pointed at the murdered snake and declared: "Wicked!"

Oh good, the boy's expanding his vocabulary finally.

Erik and Charles stopped where they were, before anyone noticed them, and looked at each other.

"All right," Azazel said as he wiped the bloodied knife off on his pants, "now who here as had snake before?"

And on that note, Erik and Charles took a few small steps backward, until they were able to make their hasty retreat into the woods, unseen.

…

"Stop squirming Charles and kiss me," Erik growled into the shorter man's lips.

"I'm sorry," Charles complained, "but this isn't exactly comfortable," he said from his position on Erik's lap as they made-out on a giant fallen tree.

"I gave you a blowjob up against a tree and you're bitching about this?" Erik asked as he hoisted Charles up more on his lap, placing both hands on the counselor's ass for support. Charles fell into him with a small groan and pulled back to look his boyfriend in the eye. "That was different—I was standing—trying to straddle you whilst on a log isn't exactly the same."

Erik placed a quick kiss to the underside of Charles' jaw. "Well, here in a minute," he said between kisses, "you'll be bent over this here log and taking quite a pounding from my cock. So I'd suggest you quit your bitching before I don't fuck you at all."

Charles gasped, "You wouldn't."

"I would," Erik breathed against the younger man's skin, teasing a line of kisses down his throat.

"Oh Erik," Charles rasped out as his eyes closed, "I'd just have to beg you until you fucked me, I suppose."

Erik's cock jumped at that.

"Beg you until you couldn't take it anymore and just fucked me stupid," Charles continued on, rocking his body slowly now back and forth in Erik's lap.

"Charles," Erik said with a breath, "you dirty little slut—you want me to fuck you stupid, don't you?"

Biting his bottom lip in, Charles locked eyes with the man he was sitting on and nodded his head wordlessly.

"Filthy boy," Erik bit out quietly before capturing Charles' lips. And they kissed like that for awhile; one frantic kiss right after the other until Charles ran out of breath. He pulled away and inhaled sharply as Erik latched his lips onto the younger man's neck.

"Erik," he gasped, eyes half closed in lust, "I don't think we have that much time, we may need to just jump on it if we don't want a search party to come after us."

Pulling away from the tender skin of Charles' neck, Erik looked up at him, eyebrow arched. "How long does it take to barbeque a snake?"

…

"Nice fire, John," Logan said as he patted the little pyro on the head. "You'll make a great arsonist one day—I'll make sure to look for you in the news in about ten years."

"I'm going to act like I didn't hear that," Hank muttered as he made the girls peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Raven looked around Hank at the fire where the snake was roasting on a stick. She cocked her head. "I kind of want to try it," she said.

Both Kitty and Anna Marie made faces.

"The snake?" Anna Marie asked.

Raven nodded. "Yeah, why not?"

Kitty turned her nose up. "Ew gross. I can't believe you'd even want to."

"What about you, Hank?" Raven asked, ignoring her camp friends and their prudish behavior. "Have you ever tried snake?"

"Me?" Hank asked as he finished one sandwich and started on another. "No, too gamey for me," he said as he made a face similar to Anna Marie's. That and, the image of Azazel emerging from the water with the dead, bloodied snake, was enough to turn him vegetarian.

Raven shrugged. "That's a shame, I however, like to try new things." She looked back over to the snake-kabob. "And I think I will," she said as she started off towards the fire. "Thanks for the sandwich, Hank, but I think I'd rather try that."

Kitty and Anna Marie gave one last look of "Yuck" as Raven walked off and Hank just mumbled to himself: "I wonder if she's really Logan's."

…

"Oh Charles, you have no idea how good you look," Erik said as he stood behind the smaller man, running a hand down his bare back, "I can't wait to fuck you." He gave a slap to Charles' ass, causing him to buck forward a bit against the log. He shut his eyes as a low, desperate moan escaped his lips.

Rubbing the man's ass, Erik smirked down at the counselor. "Oh, so you like that, don't you?" He asked as he drew his hand back again. "You like when I spank you?" His hand connected with Charles' cheek again with a sharp slap, causing Charles to cry out loudly.

Erik grabbed the brunet by the back of his hair and brought his head closer. "What's that Charles?" Erik hissed. "I couldn't hear you over my hand slapping your ass. I said: Do. You. _Like._ That?"

"Yes," Charles choked out; eyes still closed and breathing gone shallow from excitement. He bared his neck for Erik as the taller man kept a tight grip on his hair. Erik leaned over even further and placed a harsh kiss to the side of his neck before shoving Charles' head forward again, leaving the man to catch himself on the log.

Damn, bark-burn wasn't a joke.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Charles," Erik said as he started unzipping his pants, still looking down at the sight of a naked and bent over Charles before him. Mmm, lovely.

"Wait," Charles managed to pant out. He looked back at Erik through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. Oh god, it was slightly damp too. "In my shorts—I have something," he told the older man.

Looking over to where he discarded Charles' shorts, those evil, evil shorts, Erik reached down and fished around in the pockets until he found-

"Oh Charles," said the older man with a smirk, "you _are_ a bad boy, aren't you?" He retrieved a small bottle of lubricant from the clothing. "When did you get this?"

Still looking at Erik from his bent over position, Charles flushed slightly. "Gas station, when we stopped for drinks for the children," he replied bashfully. And don't even GET Charles started on the embarrassment he suffered from the look the gas station attendant gave him upon purchases. She kept looking from the bottle to Charles to the bus full of children. Charles was ninety percent positive the police were phoned after they left.

"You're just begging for me to fuck you, aren't you, Charles?" Erik said lowly as he returned to his spot behind the man. He gave his ass another quick slap, causing Charles to gasp out a sharp breath.

Very soon after, Charles could hear the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone and he braced himself against the log he was leaning over, waiting for Erik to enter him. "Please Erik, I can't wait much longer."

Erik slicked his cock up with the lube that Charles had provided, chuckling at the begging man below him. "So impatient, aren't we, Charles?" he said softly before wiping his lube slicked hand up Charles' cheeks, causing Charles to hiss out and shut his eyes. Oh let the fucking begin.

"Please Erik, I need your cock inside me."

Another slap to Charles' ass silenced him as Erik reached his hand out and tangled it in the brunet's hair. He gave a firm tug as he leaned over Charles' back, bringing his lips close to the man's ear. "I will _fuck you_ when I'm good and ready," he said sharply before shoving the smaller man's head forward again. Charles groaned and bit his lip, turning his face to look back at Erik with come-fuck-me eyes. _Ha! Take that._

"Jesus Charles, you keep looking at me like that and this won't last long," Erik gritted out as he added more lube to his hand, coating his fingers before pressing one gently into Charles.

The needy sound that left Charles was almost too arousing for Erik to handle. He nearly pulled his finger out and just fucked into the smaller man with abandon. That'll teach him to be so sexy. Instead, using all the will power he had, Erik slipped in another finger and probed around, teasing and taunting the other man with the notion of fucking him.

"Please Erik," Charles begged, your cock...I want…I _need_ your cock."

Smirking, Erik withdrew his fingers and landed another smack to Charles' ass. "You truly are ruined, aren't you? Don't even need stretching out anymore? Did my cock really do that to you? Because last time I checked, that ass of yours was still pretty fucking tight, and every time I slip my cock in it, it only seems to get tighter." Erik grabbed harshly onto one of Charles' cheeks and squeezed, causing Charles to buck forward again.

Quickly, Erik pulled Charles back by his hips and pressed the blunt tip of his cock to Charles' hole, waiting to hear the lovely sound he knew was coming.

As if on cue, Charles whined out indignantly, looking back at Erik again; big pleading blues eyes staring straight at him.

"Fuck Charles, what did I tell you about that look?" Erik said as he pushed his cock in a bit and landed another slap to the brunet's ass. Charles whimpered and Erik pushed in another inch, gripping roughly onto the smaller man's hips.

Another thrust and one of Erik's hands moved to Charles' lower back; pushing the man under him down a bit as he continued to inch his way in, the other hand stayed firmly on Charles' hip for support.

"Quit squirming, Charles," Erik said as he steadied the younger man. "You're making it hard for me to get in."

"Sorry," Charles panted, breathing gone ragged, "you're just so fucking thick (not that he was complaining or anything), it's a bit much to take all at once."

Erik leaned over Charles' back and whispered in his ear: "That's why I wanted to stretch you out first, but no, you just insisted on me ramming my cock in that tight little ass of yours." He grabbed Charles' asscheek again, roughly. "So now I'm going to do exactly that."

Charles whimpered and next thing he knew Erik was back upright again and fucking into him unforgivingly.

Well then, don't doubt Erik, was today's lesson.

"Er-_ik_…m-my g-_od_," Charles choked out as the man behind him pounded into him. Oh yes, more of that please.

"You like that, don't you, Charles?" Erik bit out as he slammed his hips forward, over and over again, his hold on Charles' hips tightening. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

Another piercing smack landed on Charles' rear-end and he rasped out a broken "Yes" as Erik plunged into him harshly. Charles gripped onto the log for dear life as his head drooped down; his hair falling over his face as Erik fucked him from behind, the sound of wet skin slapping together echoing through the woods.

Take that mother nature.

"Charles…_fuck_," Erik huffed out, breathing gone shallow. He sent one more half-hearted smack to the side of Charles' hip before slowing his thrusts down. It was becoming exhausting, fucking Charles Xavier. He grabbed the consoler by the upper arm with a harsh: "Get over here you little cocktease," and forced the smaller man down on his knees before grabbing his face and commanding: "Now stick your tongue out," as he ran his hand over his cock. Charles complied, looking up at Erik as he opened his mouth and let his tongue hang out.

Oh, he sees what's going on here, and he likes.

Erik's hand ran over his cock a few more times as he aimed at Charles' open mouth, his seed shooting out and coated the younger man's tongue liberally. So fucking hot.

"Fucking hell, Charles," Erik breathed out starkly as the last drops of semen landed on the smaller man's eager and waiting tongue below. He smacked the head of his cock against the wet (and cum covered) surface a few times just for good measures, forcing a tiny bit more to leak out and drip down into the brunet's mouth.

It was a goddamn porno finish, is what it was.

"Yes Charles, that's a good boy," the taller man said as Charles took care to lick Erik's cock clean. "Get it all, baby, that feels so fucking good," he muttered, looking down intently at the man below. He ran a soft hand down Charles' cheek as soon as the younger man looked up at him with wanton eyes. Charles licked his lips once and it was all Erik could take. He grabbed the man and hoisted him up to his feet, slamming their mouths together. Charles moaned into the kiss before Erik pulled away and said: "Your turn, darling," lowly.

Charles suddenly felt his body spin around and Erik's chest was to his back, pressing firmly against him as one of Erik's hands snaked down and grabbed onto Charles' erection. Erik jacked him off quickly, his hand motions jerky and fast.

"You have no idea just how fucking sexy you look when I'm fucking you," Erik panted onto his ear. "I love watching my cock slide in and out of you while I'm fucking that hot little ass of yours," he said while running his hand over Charles' cock smoothly. "But nothing compares to the way those sexy little moans and noises tumble from your perfect cock-sucking lips." Erik sped up, tightening his grip. "I wish you could see yourself right now," he rasped, "you look so goddamn perfect—panting and moaning as I jerk you off. Say my name, Charles."

Charles' eyes closed as he brought his head back and let it rest on the taller man's shoulder. "E-Er_ik_," he stuttered out as he came, spraying his seed all over the forest floor in long stripes.

Take that, _again_, mother nature.

Erik smirked against Charles' cheek, watching as the younger man rounded his completion. "My god Charles," he said quietly, "that was a big load." Charles blinked down at his mess as he breathed raggedly. "You like when I fuck you that hard?" Erik murmured in his ear before lowering his head and placing a kiss to the shorter man's shoulder.

"Fuck," Charles said breathlessly, "dirty talk." He turned to face Erik. "It was all the dirty talk."

Erik cocked an eyebrow. "Really?" He asked faintly with a mischievous grin. "I can do more of that—you filthy little cockslut."

Another shuddering breath left Charles and he locked eyes with the man next to him. "I'm only a filthy little slut for you," he murmured, and Erik brought him into another fiery kiss.

"I know," Erik said after they broke away. Darn right Charles was only his. He bent down and scooped up Charles' shorts and tossed them to the other man. "Now come on, let's get back before they leave without us."

Charles worked on putting his shorts back on and then took the unripped (thank you!) shirt from Erik next. "You really think they'd leave without us?"

Erik shot his lover a look. "There's already a 60% chance that Logan's tied Hank to a tree and loaded all the coolers onto one raft and left," he said seriously, "and without the children too."

Survival of the fittest, Charles thought. "Right," he said quickly and starting making a hasty retreat back to the beach. "On we go then."

TBC


	13. The Cliff Incident

"About time, fucktards," Logan announced nice and loud as Erik and Charles made their presences from beyond the wilderness.

"Logan, language, please" Charles chided as he emerged from the brush, looking every bit the man who just got thoroughly ravished by a big, strong German.

Speaking of said German, Erik trailed shortly after and slapped at a bush that was in his face. "Fucking nature," he muttered as a branch got caught in his hair.

""Fucktard" is not a bad word," Logan said, "it's not even really a word; there for, it can't _be_ a bad word."

Well fuck, that was Logan's defense? It's like the man's not even trying anymore.

"Hello, fucktards," Darwin said with a smile, coming up behind Logan. Charles' face twisted into that same look of horror he'd been wearing the entire trip (when Erik wasn't fucking him into oblivion) as Erik was still in the background fighting the losing battle with a huckleberry bush. Jesus _Christ._

"Erik," Charles shrieked, and then turned to his boyfriend. "Control your friend. He's teaching the children to _curse_."

Control Logan? Logan is out of control—Charles should know this by now.

Fighting his way out of the shrub, Erik gave Logan a cross look before placing a hand on Charles' shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze. "Go see if the rest of the children are okay, I'll handle him," he said kindly to the shorter man.

As soon as Charles was out of rage, after shooting Logan his own disapproving look, and, boy—Erik hoped to never have one of those looks thrown his way one day—Erik glared at his friend.

"What the hell, Logan— you assclown— what have I fucking told you about using goddamn swear words in front of the fucking children, you absolute prick?"

"Shit man, I forget. Give me a goddamn break; I'm not used to being around the little craptards all the time."

If Darwin's eyes could get any wider, they'd pop out of his skull. He smiled widely before declaring: "Fucking cool!" (Hey, wasn't that Sean's line?).

Shit! Darwin was still there. Erik face palmed before shooting Logan a look. Charles was going to kill them, this much was true.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do," Logan said as he squatted down to Darwin's height, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm going to tell you all the curse words there is so you know to never repeat them again, you got that kid?"

It was... possibly the worse idea in history.

Still, Darwin grinned even more as he shook his head fervently before whipping out a pad of paper and a pen from his back pocket.

This was about the point in time in which Erik decided it was best for him to exit stage right.

…

"Alright everyone," Charles called out, "I think it's time to get back on the river; we've spent enough time on this beach. They'll be more along the way later we can stop at." He looked back over to Darwin and Sean, who were snickering like a bunch of middle schoolers looking at their first picture of a vagina in a textbook, and, what could possibly be that funny?

Azazel walked by- -pulling Charles' attention away from the boys- -with what looked like a necklace around his neck that was made from a snake's vertebrae, and, Charles decided he'd ask questions about _that,_ as well, later.

Or never.

"Camp Counselor Charles?" came Kitty's voice. Charles smiled down at the girl, thankful for someone _normal_ to talk to. "Can we keep all the shells we found?" She motioned to her and Anna Marie's bag of shells.

Charles nodded. "Of course you can, dear," he replied and she smiled before turning away with a "thanks!" and skipping off.

Looking around one more time as everyone was preparing to get back on the water, Charles caught Erik's eye as he was loading Logan's cooler back into the canoe. Erik winked at him and Charles blushed, giving one more appreciative look at the beach they were on.

He was going to miss it, especially that certain part of the woods back there with the log that may or may not have been desecrated.

Not that the log was Holy by any means, but Charles was pretty sure the Lord would not approve.

He glanced around once more, shaking his head.

Now what the hell were Darwin and Sean still bloody laughing at?

…

"Here," Erik said as he tossed Charles a beer, "drink up; the beer won't last long."

Catching the can, Charles looked to Erik in puzzlement. "Won't last long? There's enough booze here for a small army."

"Beer me," came Logan's voice, it dancing across the water with clarity. And promptly, Sean jumped to and tossed the man another can. Hank's voice was heard saying: "Why didn't we switch coolers back on the beach?" and Charles watched as Logan knocked the beer back in one gulp, crumpling the can before tossing it over his shoulder and into the water. "Beer me," he said again, and, fucking Christ, Charles decided he'd seen enough.

"Good Lord," Charles said as he swung his body back around to face Erik, "is he immune to beer? If he were to stop drinking it, would he _die_?" He asked in his proper British accent, causing Erik to have thoughts of ravishing.

"Perhaps," Erik said, shrugging. He cracked his own beer open and raised it. "To Logan's immunity," he declared before taking a sip.

Charles shook his head but took a drink. "To our sanity," he muttered before Hank's voice was heard yelling: "Jesus, just throw the man two at a time! It'll save you two minutes," in the distance.

…

"Awesome! Can we stop there?" Scott yelled as he pointed to the rock cliff up ahead, and, it didn't look dangerous as fuck—no; not at all.

Charles' face soured as he thought of all the ways one could die from that cliff alone, but Logan was already rowing to it like a madman with a bad idea.

Scratch that—the man never _didn't_ have a bad idea.

"Come on you pansies!" Logan hollered back at them (apparently his form of encouragement, what with the insulting). "This is going to be great."

And it was odd, Charles was positive this was the first time he'd seen Logan even 'touch' a paddle, the entire trip. He must be on a mission.

"Daddy! I want to jump off the big rock," Raven's voice carried up the river to Erik. He frowned.

"We should probably go supervise this," Erik said quickly to Charles before he headed that way. Or intervene, same thing.

Once the canoes and the raft were up on shore, Raven came running over to her father.

"Daddy, daddy! I forgot to tell you-" she looked up at Erik with a huge smile, "-I ate rattlesnake!"

Now it was Erik who wore the look of horror on his face.

"Twas not a rattlesnake, my little one," said Azazel as he walked by, "it was a cottonmouth."

Oh, because that makes it less poisonous...

"I ate snake!" She said again happily, and Erik wasn't sure if he could blame this one on Logan or not.

"That's… wonderful, dear," Erik said with a forced smile, and, what happened to his little girl who used to play with dolls and Barbies? Also, Erik made a mental note to not eat any of Logan's "what's in this casserole surprise?" for a long, long time. Just in case...

Alex walked near and Erik shot him a look. "What about you son? Did you eat the snake-kabob too?" He asked with grimace.

The young boy shrugged. "Yeah, but it was a little chewy. I think Azazel overcooked it."

Erik made another face.

"I did not overcook that snake; it was a perfect texture of reptile crispy," the Russian said, and, what the fuck?

Reptile crispy?

Mental note to self, Erik thought, watch out for Azazel's cooking.

Oh _god_. What if he and Logan were to get together and make their _own_ casserole surprise? Erik shuddered. Oh the horrors that would lie await for them in said casserole.

"Look at me, everyone," Sean shouted as he climbed up the steep gorge, and, how could this not end badly?

"Sean! Get down from there," Charles yelled out at the same time Logan hollered: "Keep going kid; you're almost there," before cracking open another beer with a loud burp.

Good god, how was Logan not _dead_ yet?

His liver had to be waving a little white flag by this point.

"Don't encourage him," Charles said as he slapped at Logan's arm, and, oh my; the man was quite toned indeed.

"What?" Logan asked as he lifted the beer to his lips, showing off even more just how ripped his arm was. "He'll be fine-" he took a drink, "-and if not, we'll just toss his body into the woods and let a bear take care of him. Nature at its best."

Three...

Two...

One...

WHAT THE _FUCK_?

Enough—Charles had had _enough_. He couldn't take it anymore. Sod this whole sodding trip. He stalked off towards Erik and hissed: "What is _wrong_ with that man?"

He's Logan. What did he expect?

"Sean, be careful," Hank yelled up at the boy as he watched in horror/hope.

Well _what_? Hank can be an ass too, he's not perfect.

"That's it, Sean," Logan said up to him, "now hold on to that there weak, sad looking sapling as you pull yourself up… and maybe use those loose looking rocks as footing while you're at it."

Was the man _trying_ to help him die?

Charles looked away as Bobby snapped a picture of what was sure to be the last known photo of the redhead alive, and Charles briefly wondered where Bobby produced a camera from, but put it aside as he heard the chanting begin.

"JUMP, JUMP, JUMP, JUMP!"

Even Erik had joined in briefly, so Charles had looked over just in time to see Erik pop a cigarette into his mouth. The counselor flicked his hand over and knocked it away as he gave Erik a disapproving look.

For both the chanting and the smoking.

But mainly the smoking.

Just then, Sean's scream filled the air and echoed through the river valley as he plummeted down the gorge and into the water below.

They probably should have checked for large rocks, first, in the water.

"Holy shit, look at him go!" Logan's voice rang out. Charles wasn't sure if he could bring himself to look for fear that the boy would emerge from the water without an arm, or a foot, or covered in rabid leeches or bloodied in some way or what the fuck ever—Charles didn't know—he just didn't want to _look_.

But, when he heard cheers and clapping he couldn't help but turn around with a look of astonishment on his face when he saw the boy pop out of the water, unharmed, and give a thumbs up as he yelled: "That was the coolest thing ever!"

Truly, out of all the people Charles feared wouldn't make it back that trip, he figured it would be Sean.

Well _what_? It's true.

Logan let out another crude belch and then smashed his recently emptied beer can against his forehead, announcing: "My turn," as he trekked off towards the cliff.

Okay so maybe Logan was first on that list. But Sean was a stealthy second.

Watching in amusement now, Charles studied Logan as the man climbed further and further to the top.

Surely this time it would end in disaster. And, yes, Charles remembered Logan's instructions about the bear and the woods, if something were to go wrong.

He was holding onto that, too.

"Come on you candyass. Jump already!" Azazel hollered up to his friend, to which Logan replied: "Fuck you." His gruff voice bellowing down, followed by a lovely burp, signaling that he was finished with his current beer, and in need of a new one.

Charles did however, suspect that Logan had another one on his person.

"Are we all just cursing in front of the kids now?" Hank asked, irritated, as he looked back to Charles. "Because if so, I have a few choice words I've been holding back this entire trip."

"Don't be silly, Hank," the counselor said absently, unable to tear his eyes away from the lunatic of a mountain man on the bluff, "no one's cursing in front of the children," and, clearly Charles had no idea what had been going on the entire goddamn trip.

Well if you were too busy having your brains shagged out by Erik Lehnsherr, would you?

"Do a cannonball," John yelled at the flannel loving man.

"No, do a swan dive," Scott hollered up, stepping next to John.

"No, better yet: do a triple decker jackknife cannonball roll with a suicide end!" Sean yelled, and, what the fuck?

Where does he come up with this stuff?

"Sean," Logan yelled down to the boy below, "beer me!"

Ah, looks like Charles was wrong.

"Logan, it's too far," Hank shouted up, his voice bouncing off the rocks. "His arm's not that strong."

"Hey!" Sean seemed to take offense to this.

"Well then somebody throw me a goddamn beer; I'm thirsty!" Logan bellowed down, because of course, beer equals water.

"I can do it!" Sean said miffed, as he grabbed a beer from the nearest cooler and wound his arm up before letting the can soar through the air. It landed disappointingly nowhere near the crazy fucker, instead smashing into the side of the rock wall and exploding into a foamy demise. And it would have been hilarious had it not been alcohol abuse of the first degree.

"Come on, that's the best you got?" Logan shouted down at the boy. "Alright, who else wants to try? Surely one of you pansies can lob a beer up to me!"

Taunting—Logan was taunting them.

One by one all the children took turns whipping beer cans up at Logan, all failing. More and more cans were being chucked at the man and the children finally just ignored the turn taking order to go apeshit crazy style; lobbing beer after beer as they pleased. Logan laughed like a madman and yelled down: "You're all a bunch of girls!" and by that point Azazel had joined in and nearly came close twice, but not close enough, and he may have been aiming more for Logan's legs, hoping he'd lose his footing and come tumbling down the off cliff.

Because after all—this was fucking Survivor now.

Even Hank took a try in throwing a beer to Logan but Charles was 99.9% positive it was more like he was trying to throw a beer 'at' Logan.

Hank after all, disliked the man for many, many reasons.

But not as much as he disliked Erik.

Speaking of Erik, Hank turned quickly and pitched a beer his way. It smacked into Erik's arm with a pop and beer sprayed everywhere, drenching the man in a yeasty and hoppy explosion.

Erik looked deadly at Hank with a look of_ oh, so you want to die._ "What the hell?" He snapped. "What was that for?"

And normally, Hank would have been terrified for his life at that moment, but for some reason, he just wasn't. He shrugged. "I don't know, I just don't like you," he said simply.

Blinking at the younger man for minute, Erik finally shrugged. "Okay then, works for me."

Erik respects a man who can tell the truth.

"Not one of you sissy girls can get a beer up to me? What a sad bunch you all are," Logan bellowed down before laughing out loud.

Where taunting fails, insulting thrives.

By this point, Erik had had enough of Logan's mouthing off. He picked up a beer can and tossed it up in the air a couple of times as he walked closer to the edge of the riverbank. Next he grabbed Charles and brought the man into a one armed kiss, for luck, before pulling back harshly and then whipping the beer can up at Logan's face.

Logan caught the beer with precise accuracy and cracked it open, ignoring the spray of foam he got in the face before he took a long, and dignified, couple of gulps before crumbling the aluminum can, one-handed, and let out a war cry (seriously, what's with all the war crying going on around here? It's just a goddamn float trip) before finally tossing the poor can aside as he bellowed out once more.

He jumped; soaring down the cliff like a rock and splashing into the water below.

It was quite a fucking spectacular sight to see.

If you're under twelve that is.

Charles rolled his eyes as he walked off towards the cooler. It was time to get hammered—there were only so many of Logan's shenanigans he could put up with in one trip.

"Whooo!" The mountain man yelled as he emerged head first from the water. "Suck on _that,_ mother nature!"

And truthfully, Charles was waiting for that to be said—although he wasn't exactly sure what mother nature would be "sucking on"—but he didn't question Logan's logic. He cracked a beer open before realizing in horror the alarming rate at which said beers were disappearing. He looked back to the river, where most of them were now floating, all decrepit and mangled looking as a result of them bouncing off the gorge from the children's attempts to get them to Logan. What a fucking feats of strength that had been.

But more importantly: Jesus, Erik wasn't shitting when he said the beer wouldn't last long.

Speaking of Erik, the handsome man made his way over to Charles and brought the smaller man into another quick kiss before looking down lovingly at him.

"Pretty amazing, wasn't it?" Erik questioned.

Charles cocked an eyebrow. "What? Logan careening off a cliff and living to tell about it? Yeah, I'd say so," he said dryly as ever.

"No, no," the taller man said as he shook his head with a smile, "I meant my aim with the beer can."

"Oh," Charles replied. "Yeah, I suppose that was pretty cool. Nice arm you got on you, babe." He then ran his hand down Erik's bicep slowly. "Nice arm indeed," he murmured, biting his bottom lip into his mouth as his blue eyes flashed from Erik's arm to Erik's face.

"Charles," Erik said in mock chide, "are you getting horny again?"

"Erik, my friend," he said with a small chuckle, "I am _always_ horny around you."

But before anymore dirty talk could filter between them further, the mood was interrupted by Logan's rough voice yelling out: "Hey Sean! Get over here and jump with me next time," as he swam his way back to the cliff. "And grab a couple of beers while you're at it."

Both those beers better be for Logan, Charles thought sarcastically before looking back at Erik. "I suspect I should probably watch this as well," he concluded.

Erik nodded. "May be a good idea," he concurred.

Once Logan and Sean scaled the side of the bluff, and Logan doubled fisted both beers as only one Stone Cold Steve Austin could, he then clashed both cans together and let out an animal like cry.

Charles has two thoughts at once, 1) he was suddenly very glad that they brought cans and not bottles (for many, many reasons now) and, 2) Logan either just alerted all the nearby animals (causing Charles to have a fear of _death-by-bears_), or scared the piss out of them and no one would be seeing any wildlife the rest of the bloody trip.

The chanting begun again and Charles was brought out of his stupor.

"JUMP, JUMP, JUMP, JUMP!"

Another picture was snapped and before Charles could look over at the guilty party, Logan had already pushing Sean off the cliff, and cackled like the crazy fucker that he was.

Sean bellowed out as he tumbled down the side of the rock wall, smacking into a couple small trees and bushes on the way down.

Oh shit, this is serious.

"_Logan_," Charles cried out in horror as he watched the young boy roll down the side of the cliff like a stone. "Erik!" Charles said next, turning to the man in panic. "He just pushed Sean off the bloody cliff! He might _die._"

And?

Oh right, not good.

Erik couldn't seem look away as he watched the boy bounce down the wall and finally plop into the river below with a splash.

All they needed was that "splat" noise from Looney Tunes and it would have been perfect.

Why the _fuck_ was Erik thinking about sound effects at a time like this?

"Erik!" Charles yelled again, real fear in his eyes. "Do something!" He pointed towards the water, where Sean had yet to emerge from.

Right, this would probably be a good time to-

TBC


	14. Remember That Time Logan Almost Died?

Before Erik could even jump in to save-the-kid mode, Azazel had already barreled off towards the water and dove in, sans hunting knife in mouth this time, and, thank god for that. Charles had his worries…

Both Azazel and Sean emerged seconds later and the Russian was swimming them both to shore as all the other children looked on in horror and worry, except for Sean who thought it was…oh yeah— that's right; never mind— as Logan hollered down: "He'll be fine! It was just a little tumble. Bet he walks away with just a few scratches."

But if not, there's always the woods and the bears…

Holy hell, _now_ is not the time for those types of thoughts!

"Is he going to be okay?" Raven asked with a shaky voice as she clung onto her father's leg. Erik kneeled down and took her into his arm. "I'm sure he'll be just fine, sweetie. Sean's a tough kid." And what he wanted to say was: he'll be fine— he's probably harder to get rid of than damn cockroaches.

Charles would second that. (Hank would probably even third it.)

Azazel plopped the boy down in the sand and everyone- -except for Logan, who was trying to get someone to throw him up another cold one; because let's face it, he's seen worse- -crowded around Sean and watched with fear. Azazel drove one hard fist to the boy's chest and yelled: "Breathe damn you!"

Sean gasped awake with a start as his eyes flew opened. He looked up at all the faces above him.

"Sean, say something," Charles begged, because it's not like his reputation (or his camp) was riding on the line or anything.

Taking in a ragged breath, Sean's mouth slowly quirked up into a small smile.

"That... was… AWSOME!" He sat straight up and looked around like a goddamn happy fool that didn't just almost suffer a horrible, and untimely, fait at the hands of one Logan Howlett.

He wouldn't have been the first, probably.

A chorus of sighs were let out and the crowd dissipated while Logan's voice was heard hollering down.

"Told you he'd be fine! ...Now someone get me a beer."

A beer was flung at Logan's head with more velocity than a small tornado and Charles smiled as he clung onto Erik's arm, looking up at his man with hearts in his eyes.

Erik was proud, he wasn't going to lie.

Not that Erik lies… well, except for that one time to his parole officer.

And Emma.

A Lot to Emma, actually.

But besides those- -and the thousands of lies he's told to Logan over the years, not to mention the lies he was forced to tell his children _because_ of Logan (and Logan's 'lady friends')- -Erik Lehnsherr never lies.

…

"Shit," Erik cursed as he looked around the canoe. Charles turned around to see what the profanity was about this time—not that it really mattered anymore, apparently it was "Say Whatever the Fuck You Want Sunday". Christ.

"What's wrong?" The younger man asked.

Erik tossed the paddle to Charles, who was sitting in the front of the vessel. "Here, take over for a moment. I can't find that damn joint we had early," and oh—that could be problematic.

"Where'd you put it?" Charles asked as he made his way to the back of the canoe, sliding next to Erik, because everyone knows you can't steer from the front damn it. (Well you _can_, but it's not as easy, and besides that, Charles just wanted to be closer to Erik so, _shut up_.)

Tossing enough empty beer cans to make a small pyramid aside, Erik ran his hand along the underside of their benchseat. "I thought I put it right here, but I was high and receiving a rather mind blowing blowjob at the time, if I do remember correctly." He flashed a naughty smile up at Charles and Charles swears he didn't blush, but he completely did, and you can't really blame him, because again; it's Erik fucking Lehnsherr. Thanks.

"Damn it. Now where is it?" Erik said as he felt around some more, and he really couldn't be blamed if he accidently let his hand travel up Charles' thigh in the process.

Not that Charles minded or anything, but he did spare a brief wonder to as if Logan had anything to do with the disappearing joint before spreading his legs wider for Erik.

What? Erik can be productive _and_ get something sexy accomplished.

…

"Hey," Sean, who was sporting a rather nice cut across his cheek (which he thought made him look rather cool, and, of course he did; he's 12) whispered over to Alex, "look what I found."

Alex eyed the small object in the boy's hand, who was voted: most-likely-not-to-make-it-back-alive-from-this-trip (What? Logan held the poll—Alex merely supplied his ballet). "What is that?"

"I think it's half a cigarette," he said quietly, leaning closer to the blond. "Want smoke it when we get to the next stop?" And of course Sean would be the bad influence here, who else would?

Logan aside, of course.

Still looking at it, Alex cocked his head. "Doesn't look like a cigarette. I've seen my dad's before. That's not round enough."

Sean shrugged. "Some people roll their own cigarettes; I think that's what this is." He rolled it between his thumb and first two fingers as he examined it. He looked back up at Alex. "So, you in or out?"

Come on now, of course he's in. Alex _is_ going on 12 after all. "Why not," he said. This trip was rather uneventfully after all, if you asked him.

Uneventful? Sean nearly died!

That sounded pretty event-'filled' to some, thank you very much.

…

"Land Ho!" (Go on, someone make a joke, please) Logan, who was clearly fucking drunk by this point, hollered as he stood at the front of his canoe, one foot up on the bow, one hand pointing straight ahead, while the other clutched onto a beer can (some believe the beer can is actually a mutated appendage), cigar in mouth and wearing a goddamn dirty rag tied around his face as an eye patch.

All he needed was a hat, fuck. No doubt the man already had scurvy.

At one point, he had also tried to capture a bird (_"Logan there are no parrots around here, you assclown!"_ Hank had said, but had serious doubt that that was going to stop the man) and force it on his shoulder, but it squawked at him and flew away after attempting to peck his eyes out.

Can't say Logan didn't see that one coming.

He drained his beer (without removing the cigar from his mouth mind you) and chucked it over at Hank.

"Hey!" Hank's voice was heard saying as the empty can bounced off his head.

"Azazel," Logan bellowed in a drunken stupor. "Take this here vessel over to that spot O' land so the Captain can empty the contents of his bladder." He looked around at the others. "Unless no one minds if I just do it here, over the side of the canoe," he said with a smirk as he reached for his zipper.

"NO!" came a chorus of voices.

They've made it this far without an indecent exposure incident, Christ.

"Then onward! I have business with that there tree, maties," he said, pointing ahead again.

"Aye-aye Captain," Azazel confirmed as he started rowing to the soon-to-be intoxicated tree.

Logan, who still standing at the front of the canoe-despite what the canoe rental employee told them all- -did a one handed solute… and then fell face first into the water.

But remember— and now; this is important— he still had his beer in his hand the whole time.

Charles blinked as he witnessed the man fall into the water and sink like a bag of rocks- -except for his beer can, which was bobbing in the water with Logan's hand still wrapped around it (Logan always said you'd have the pry the beer from his cold, dead hand, if you wanted it), and one might even say it was what saved him; kind of like a little liferaft of sorts- -before he looked over at Erik. "Should we go in after him?"

"Na," Erik said as he leaned back and rested his head on the canoe, using a lifejacket as a pillow (because no one else seemed to need it). He watched Charles row. "He'll be fine. He does this every time," he said calmly as he brought a beer to his lips, as if this were an everyday occurrence or some shit.

Kind of makes one wonder: what _does_ go on in the Lehnsherr household day to day?

"Oh." Charles said, a little shocked, yet he continued on to the spot of land ahead. They rowed past Azazel's canoe, where Azazel was yelling down at Logan's floating back: "Get out of there you fucking drunk ass. What are you trying to do;_die_?"

Die? Logan? No, there's still so much he had to do in life. He hadn't nearly fulfilled his destiny of providing the world with his endless supply of shenanigans.

Once on land, Erik brought their canoe up on the shore just enough so that it wouldn't float away (it's happened before—Erik will tell you—it sucks, especially when beer is involved) and then helped Hank with the raft. The kids all wandered off again and started to explore the area of land they stopped at.

"Not too far, children," Hank warned when he noticed Sean and Alex trekking off into the woods. Something about that sight gave him a baaaaad feeling. He could just see it now: Alex would come running back yelling: "Hank! Hank! Sean got his head stuck in a beehive!"

Again.

Yeah, that kid had "liability" written all over him. As well as: _short life expectancy_.

Good god, someone take out a life insurance claim on that kid before it's too late.

"HANK!"

Too late.

Alex came running back up through the brush. "Where's Azazel?" He questioned calmly, trying to catch his breath.

Oh, well, that was anticlimactic. Hank looked down at the boy, and, now that should have been the first sign that told him something fishy was happening. He looked off towards the river where Azazel was still on the water and now looked like he was… hitting Logan's floating body with a paddle? Good god, maybe someone 'should' go check and see if Logan was indeed dead or not.

"He's fine," Erik said nonchalantly as he walked by, as if he read the young counselor's mind. Perhaps it was the twisted look of horror Hank was wearing on his face, as he looked off towards the water, that gave him away.

*Whap!* Another paddle blow landed on Logan's back and Azazel shouted: "Get up you lazy alcoholic! You are not _one-with-the-water_. Don't make me come in there."

Hank turned back to Alex. "He may be a minute."

Alex let out a huff. "Goddamn uncle Logan," he said under his breath. "He's always drowning or doing something equally stupid." He looked back up at Hank. "I'll just go find John," he said before he took off.

And _that_ should've been Hank's second clue.

Not five minutes later, Azazel was dragging Logan's body up on land, soaking wet again mind you (and why does everyone have to go and try to _die_ on this trip?). He let the burly man's body drop to the ground with a wet thump before giving it a kick. "Get up, Logan, we're on land."

Charles couldn't help but be concerned at this point, and he wore the look on his face well as he glanced to the passed out man on the beach. "Good god, is he breathing?"

Well, if not… there's always the woods and the bears…

Hank found his way over that direction and gave Logan's body nudge with his shoe. "Is he dead?" He asked dryly. Eh, no big loss in Hank's book.

That's the spirit Hank, now you're one of them.

"He's fine," Erik said with a loud sigh. He rolled his eyes. Jesus, he didn't see what all the goddamn fuss was about; Logan dies like ten times a year. He laid back on the beach with a beer in his hand. Fucking tourists.

"I don't know, Erik," Charles said. He looked closer at the beached man—_is_ he breathing? "He looks pretty dead to me," he concluded.

One down, two to go.

Wait. What?

What the fuck was wrong with this trip?

Suddenly, a girly shriek rung out and all the adults turned their heads to see Anna Marie pointing at Logan's unmoving corpse. "A dead body!"

Charles briefly wondered how much therapy for nine kids, well eight; Sean didn't seem to traumatize that easily, would run him.

Raven made her way closer and looked at her non-blood uncle. She poked him with a stick (and, what the fuck? A stick?) "He'll be fine," she concluded after a moment and walked away. "I've seen him more passed out that this."

Okay, make that therapy for seven kids.

"Can we throw rocks at him? Kind of like when we did with the beer cans?" Scott asked hopefully as he looked up at Hank, and, Christ O' mighty, what was _wrong_ with these kids?

"No, we need to bury him, before the body starts to stink and attract predators," Darwin said, and, Charles didn't even want to think about how an eleven year old knew about that.

Charles looked around. Something was missing. Where was Sean to ask some equally stupid-ass question like: "Do you think he'll come back as a beer-zombie and try and drink us?" Seriously, life wasn't complete without Sean's endless, pointless, questions.

"Is he going to be okay?" Kitty asked timidly as she made her way closer. She hid behind Hank's legs and peered around at the body. And when did everyone start thinking of Logan as "The Body"? Jesus, he wasn't fucking dead yet, Erik knew better.

John came strolling up. He looked down at the body, and, well all be damned—there's a dead body. "Cool! Can we burn-"

"Alright! That's enough," Erik said as he rose to his feet. "He's fine, and I'll prove it." He walked over to his stupid ass friend and gave him a swift kick in the butt. Logan let out a grunt.

"I don't think so, baby… that's an exit only… you must be looking for my roommate," Logan muttered, his eyes still closed.

Charles blushed.

"Logan!" Erik barked down at the man, ignoring his drunken stupor. "We're out of booze."

Logan shot straight up like a rocket and looked around wildly, panic in his eyes. "What? How?" His sight landed on Erik. "Are you fucking for real?"

Erik quirked an eyebrow and looked at everyone. "Told ya," he said as he strolled off, taking a drink of his beer. Charles shrugged, then followed, lacing his fingers with the taller man's as he looked back once more at the crazy fucker who seemed to evade death at every turn.

It was amazing, truly.

Hank shook his head and Azazel muttered something under his breath about there being _two_ casualties had he not be there, while John let out an "Aw man," and that wasn't at all alarming or anything, while Darwin and Scott headed off; Darwin saying, "I really thought he was dead, he smelt pretty dead."

Logan sat in the sand and looked around.

"Seriously guys, are we out of beer?"

…

"Hey, where have you two been?" Hank asked when he saw Alex and Sean emerge from the tree line. "You missed Logan cheat death." He looked closely at the two boys. Why was Sean smiling like a clown on crack?

"Aw man," Sean said, goofy like (then again, when wasn't Sean goofy?). "That must have been wicked to see." He then burst into a fit of laughter which only caused Alex to do the same. They both stood there chuckling like it was _the_ funniest thing they've every heard.

Hank decided he'd seen enough. Logan almost dying didn't seem THAT funny.

…

"What the...?" Azazel held up two empty bags of jerky and three bags of chips that had been cleaned out thoroughly. Jesus Christ, did they _lick_ the insides? He eyed the two young adolescents sitting on the log across from him. "You two ate 'all' this?"

Sean grinned widely up. "Yep," he replied, while Alex giggled and leaned into the boy next to him, adding: "I'm still kind of hungry, though."

The Russian's face dropped. He looked closely at the two.

Odd, why were their eyes so red and bloodshot?

Uh.

Maybe...

Oh, oh _no_.

"Hank!" Azazel hollered out and the young counselor was on his way over quickly.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked as he stood next to Azazel, looking at him before glancing down at the two giggling dopes. "God, they're still laughing?" He frowned at them. "Seriously guys, Logan's impending death isn't that funny. I'm a little alarmed at the fact that you two think it's so-"

The older man suddenly grabbed Hank by the shirt and dragged him near. "They're not laughing over Logan's shenanigans, they are _high_ you twit," he hissed harshly at him. Hank's eyes nearly bulged out of his head from the news.

"High?" He parroted back, his voice a bit squeaky. He then turned back to look at the boys.

Still giggling and falling into each other, Alex snickered at a leaf he was holding up, and, Christ; could this trip get any worse? People falling off cliffs, Logan's brush with death, a beer throwing contest, a bat invasion, Erik and Charles going off to fuck like rabbits in the woods every ten minutes, and now stoned children? Seriously, what the hell was going on around here? It were as if there were some kind of divine individual (who may or may not be crazy) that was making all this insane batshit happen.

"Look at them," Azazel said, motioning at the two dumbasses, "red eyes, munchies, laughing at nothing in particular—they're stoned."

Hank grimaced. "But how?" He looked at Azazel. "And where did they get it from?"

The Russian shook his head. "I don't know, but we can't let Erik and Charles find out, they will be none too pleased."

"Right," Hank said, "Charles will be all worried that Sean will tell his parents and Erik will be pissed that Alex didn't share." He looked back at Azazel. "Wait, where are Charles and Erik?"

The older man looked over Hank's shoulder. "Last I saw, they were headed into the woods."

Like fucking rabbits.

Suddenly, Logan appeared out of nowhere. "Seriously," he said as he approached the two men, "are we out of fucking beer or what?" He then looked down at the two giggling morons on the log.

"What the fuck's up with them?" He questioned.

Hank and Azazel just looked at each other.

Oh boy.

TBC


	15. The Almost Chair Incident

"Ew, is that a chair?" Charles asked with a worrisome tone as Erik came up behind him. "What fresh hell have we just walked into?"

"No, that's perfect," Erik said as he walked past the younger man. He eyed the dingy old recliner that sat near a tree with a wide grin.

Charles wrinkled his nose. "I don't know what I'm more alarmed about, the fact that there's a chair in the middle of the bloody woods— for obvious reasons, or that you intend to 'use' the chair for said obvious reasons."

"Come on, Charles," Erik said as he patted the chair. "It's not that bad."

Define "bad".

"I can see crusty old come stains from here," Charles said dryly, and, dear lord, what would happen if you took a black light to that thing? It would probably be just one big fucking stain. Charles shuddered at the very thought. "I am _not_ sitting in that thing." And when Charles Xavier says he's not doing something, he's _not_ doing something. (No matter how good looking and sexy his tall German boyfriend may be.)

"Will you lean over it?"

"No!"

"Okay, okay," Erik said with a smirk. "I get it; the chair's out." He looked around the forest with an exaggerated sigh. "I guess there's just nowhere that I can give you that blowjob I promised you."

Goddamn it.

Charles' cock twitched and he cursed his backstabbing anatomy.

He was not sitting in that fucking chair.

No matter how good Erik's blowjobs are.

"Oh, here," the taller man said as he spotted "something" on the ground. "Will this help?" He then picked up an even dingier, grosser, decrepit and sad as shit looking towel that was nearby. Good lord, the thing was a fucking disaster; it was all stiff and hard and had dried leafs and other questionable and mysterious crap fossilized on it. When Erik picked the sad thing up off the ground it somehow managed to retain the shape it was in! And if someone had to describe said shape, Charles would best define it as: twisted, mangled, disaster meets garbage deposal, good _god_.

"What the fuck, Erik," Charles shrieked in horror—sheer horror. "You expect me to sit on that? That's even worse that the goddamn decaying chair! I'm getting scabies just looking at it." He pointed at the towel accusingly. (Poor towel.) "That's probably what people used to clean up with afterwards!"

Correction: it _was_ what people used to clean up with afterwards.

Holding said nappy sex towel between his thumb and forefinger with an outstretched arm-because really; ew- Erik looked at it while he laughed silently, and, what the fuck's up with Erik's odd sense of humor lately? (God_damn_ you Logan) "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Gross." He tossed it to the side where it landed with a poof and disintegrated into ash and smoke.

Well, all be damned, that thing really _was_ a fossilize towel.

"Okay, I don't think I'm in the mood anymore," Charles said as he watched the towel ash drift away in a cloud of smoke. Was this really happening?

"Oh come on, Charles," Erik cooed. "Don't be like that— it's just a reincarnated towel." And really, reincarnated towels should be the least of Charles' worries on this trip. Remember that time Sean almost died? That was like, less than an hour ago.

"It's not the towel that I'm worried about- although now that it's wafting itself this way I'm a bit skeptical." Charles said as he looked back at his boyfriend. "It's more of the chair I'm afraid might sprout legs and walk off at any moment." With Charles in it, too, mind you.

"This old thing?" Erik questioned as he eyed "Old Reliable". Its probably seen many a great summers. "I'm sure it's just fine." He gave it a small kick— just a tap.

The chair crumbled in on itself and the backboard fell completely off with a thud.

Well then.

Erik coughed as some dust/dirt/powered come-really?- floated up to his face, and Charles arched an eyebrow.

"And you wanted me to sit on that."

"Or bend over it," Erik pointed out, because that makes a difference.

…

"Is this better?" Erik growled out before taking Charles into his mouth hungrily as they both laid on the forest floor.

Could've been worse.

Charles' eyes shut as the back of his head hit the ground softly with a thump (much like the chair did minutes ago, oh _god_). "Oh yes, _much_," he moaned out and tightened his hold on Erik's hair. He brought his head back up and looked down at the man between his legs. "Faster Erik... yes, that's good—_ah_."

Erik's head was bobbing up and down as he sucked Charles' cock fiercely, swallowing down as deep as he could before his gag reflex's kicked in and told him it was time to draw back.

And all it took was half a flask of cheap vodka to convince Charles to let Erik give him a blowjob on the forest floor.

... Better than the chair.

"_Erik_... oh god," Charles rasped out, grip tightening on Erik's hair as he helped with his head movements. "Feels so good, love."

Erik let out a low rumbling sound in the back of his throat and Charles could only conclude that was a moan. And it felt _amazing_. He continued to move Erik's head using his hair as he fucked up into the taller man's mouth. But what really got Charles was when he looked down and noticed that at some point Erik had undone his own pants and was masturbating himself while he sucked Charles off.

Good. Fucking._ God_ .

"Oh my god that's hot," Charles choked out; surprised he didn't just come right then and there from sheer sexiness of it all. Erik continued to work Charles' cock with his mouth and his own cock with his hand—both speeds set the same— and when Erik muttered something that sounded like: "God I love sucking your cock, Charles, you taste so fucking good," around a mouth full of said cock, Charles had completely fell into pieces and exploded (exploded didn't even really justify just how messy and fast he came) into Erik's wet and warm mouth with a low groan.

Once Erik swallowed everything Charles had to give—_oh god_— he pulled up, still stroking his own cock, harder and faster, and told Charles to lift his shirt up. Charles came up on his elbows and pulled his shirt up to his chest, watching in excitement as Erik came all over his stomach, coating it thoroughly with warm and stick ejaculation.

"Holy shit, Charles," Erik bit out, his breath ragged.

Charles took a couple much needed breaths of fresh air himself before he looked back up at Erik, who still had his cock in his hand and was staring down proudly at his masterpiece.

"Okay that's twice now that you've done that. When do I get to come on you?" Charles asked.

And if Erik had any hope of making his boner go away, those words just squashed it. "Fuck Charles," he breathed, "why do you have to say such arousing shit while I'm trying to get my hard-on to subside?"

"Sorry," Charles said, not sorry at all, "I just want to know when it'll be my turn, is all." He gave another one of his famous "Charles smiles".

Smug bastard— especially after sex does that damn smile do things to Erik that should be classified as: _unfair_. Nobody has Charles' smile. He growled and brought the brunet into a messy kiss. It was all lips and tongues and harsh breaths— there would have been swearing, too, probably, but their mouths were otherwise occupied.

He pulled away. "Whenever you want to, Charles, whenever you want," he said hotly. Because Lord knows Erik wants Charles' come all over his body; he wants everything Charles as to give him.

Charles whimpered.

…

"Shit, here comes Erik and Charles," Hank said as he looked to Azazel. "We can't let them see Alex and Sean like this." Of course not, Hank cherishes his life.

To a degree.

Azazel turned to Logan, who was still in a beer haze (hm, could that possibly have anything to do with the concussion he probably received from being wacked with a paddle? Repeatedly). "Hey, Logan, is there any way we can sober these two up? Quick."

"Sober them up?" The mountain man came closer. "They're fucking high—not drunk," he smirked at the two preteens. Morons. "There aint no "sobering them up", you two are just screwed." He looked to Hank. "Especially you," he said before he laughed, walking off.

Thanks prick, that helped.

"How is this _my_ fault?" Hank called out after Logan.

"Kids were your responsibly; they were on your raft," Logan tossed behind his shoulder.

And again; thanks ass.

Goddamn it Logan. Hank sighed. "So what are we going to…" he looked around.

Where the hell was Azazel?

...Well, isn't that just fucking lovely?

"Hello, Hank," Charles said in greeting, and boy, did he seem "chipper" for a man who just took a walk through the woods…

Right, like Hank believed that.

"You holding the fort down all right?" he asked, still smiling like only Charles could.

As much as Hank wanted to disappear (preferably into thin air) much like his backstabbing friends (are Logan and Azazel really considered friends? When did that happened? How was this Hank's life? So many questions...) he had no choice but to stand there and wait for the hurricane. "Um, yeah. I suppose," he said nervously.

Erik furrowed his brows at Hank's odder than normal behavior. (Here comes the hurricane.) "What happened?"

_Jesus._ How did he know?

Erik deadpanned. "What did Logan do now?" he asked dryly, preparing for an ass kicking.

Logan, oh god—was there a way that Hank could blame this on him somehow?

Of course there was! Survival of the fittest after all...

Hank shrugged, putting on his game face. "I don't know what he did, all I know is that he was hanging out with Alex and Sean for a while and then he took off. Fast. He asked if I could watch after the boys. They seemed very mellow and relaxed... and hungry! Very, very hungry."

Well, that seemed like it covered what he learned from Azazel's crash course on Pot Smoking 101. Hank was proud.

Sean suddenly let out a snicker. "Logan— that's such a funny name." Alex held up his piece of foliage. "But not as funny as this leaf." Both boys busted up laughing, much like that time Erik did when he discovered how funny Emma's cat with a rubber chicken tied to its back could be, while high of course, and-

Wait.

No.

Oh FUCK no.

Charles' eyes widened and Erik's right eye started to twitch. Just the right one, mind you. That was his "angry" eye.

Hank suddenly vanished, all that was left behind was a cloud of dust and footprints in the sand.

It was probably for the best.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you two?" Erik demanded to know (although he already knew), as Charles looked on in shock at the two giggling, almost; but not quite yet, teens.

"Dad, dad," Alex said as he leaned into Sean on the log. He had, as Logan once described it, "chink eyes". "Just look at this leaf." He held up said leaf. "Tell me it's not the funniest thing you've ever seen."

Erik blinked.

"Dude," Sean said, reaching down for the already empty bag of chips... aww…"That leaf... that leaf is so hilarious, we, we should totally frame it." He held the bag up anyway and eyed the inside suspiciously, checking for crumbs. "So we can like, totally laugh at it later."

Assuming there is a "later" for Sean. What? The kid's a walking disaster.

Erik could literally feel his blood begin to boil. God. Damn. _Logan_. If anyone should've gotten his son high, it should've been Erik!

…wait, no, that's not right…

Alex shouldn't _be_ high.

And probably not the other one—Sean— either.

"Erik," Charles whispered to the man next to him, "is it just me, or are they acting a bit…peculiar?"

Narrowing his eyes, Erik honed in on his son. "Alex," he started slowly (it was hard, it really was). "Have you by chance been smoking any of Logan's "special cigarettes" lately?"

Letting out a laugh/snort, Alex looked up at his father and, yep—his eyes were classic stoner red, before he replied. "No," he said. Erik let out a sigh.

Until…

"Sean said he found the cigarette in your canoe. Hope you don't mind."

Both Erik and Charles' eyes widened at the same time.

"Oh," Charles said softly, "so that's where that went." Perfect.

Erik ran a hand down his face and sighed.

How was this is life?

Erik turned back to the two boys, who were clearly under the influence of some very good reefer, Erik remembered. "All right," he said, undoubtedly exasperated by the whole turn of events, "whose idea was this?"

Both Alex and Sean pointed at the leaf, smiling.

Perfect, just what Erik expected.

Charles snickered, and turned away; trying to hide it under a cough.

Erik's head snapped over to him. "So this is funny?" He asked, and, well— how is it not, really?

Trying to cover his mouth with his hand, Charles shook his head, looking Erik in the eyes. "No—no, of course not," he tried to say as seriously as he could.

He failed.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Wonderful," he muttered.

Charles placed his hand on Erik's arm. "I'm sorry, Erik, I really am," he said with a not-sorry smile over his smug, but cute, face. "But, I mean, come on—it's kind of funny if you think about it." They both looked back at the boys.

Alex waved the leaf in front of his face. "This leaf is just so…leafy…"

Erik looked back to the counselor. "Hilarious," he said dryly. "Just wait until you have kids—then it won't be as funny."

Cocking his head, Charles looked at the older man. "Kids? How exactly would I do that?" Um hello, does not sleep with women.

Erik looked down, embarrassed. "I just meant… well… if you and I-" he shrugged, "-I don't know—just if one day... you and I ever wanted to…" god this was awkward. Erik sucks at this.

Charles smiled. "I understand," he said softy as he ran his hand down Erik's arm, stopping the man from further discomfort. And if Charles didn't already think he was falling for the man, he would have just then.

Suddenly, a laugh disrupted their special moment.

They looked back at the young boys…and leaf—Erik still didn't get what was so goddamn funny about a leaf, but who was he to judge? He once came home wearing an inflatable ducky around his waist and floaties on his arms. And what the _fuck_?—he didn't even remember where they came from!

Then again, shrooms may have had more to do with that incident than weed, but still…

At about this time, Raven decided to make her presence known (of course she did; she seemed to have a knack for these type of things.) "Daddy?" she questioned as he looked sideways at her brother. "What's wrong with Alex?"

Jesus, where does one begin? First: he's Erik's son, second: he's been hanging out with Sean, third: Logan…

Erik shook his head. Anyways...

Looking down at his good child (although that's debatable at times), Erik gave her a reassuring smile. "Nothing, dear, he's just having… a very good time. Now run along and play with-" he looked up and scanned the beach:

John and Bobby were rubbing sticks together furiously in attempt to start another fire, Scott and Darwin were skipping rocks into the water—well that didn't seem so bad…oh wait, no—they were trying to piss off another snake—okay that's out, Kitty and Anna Marie were…what the hell were they doing? Talking to Azazel? Okay, nothing good could come out of that.

He looked back at his sweet daughter. "Why don't you go and make sure uncle Logan hasn't drowned again." He smiled, and, it was sincere—it really was—even though he wanted to murder his son.

Raven let out a huff. "Alright," she said, "but if I find him face down in the water like I did in during the Bathtub Incident of 2010 (Jesus, now they're dating the Incidents?) I'm just going to walk away. He has to learn sooner or later." Or die trying.

But more importantly…

Learn what? That a drunken Logan and water don't mix? He should already know that by now. Because, Jesus fuck, how do you almost die in a two inch puddle of water?

Just ask Logan—he'll tell you how.

Apparently, twenty shots of tequila, a pair rollerblades and a partially broken umbrella on a very windy night will do just that. Ironically this was also the same night that Erik came home with the floaties and rubber ducky, which was what saved Logan from _death by puddle_, AKA: The Puddle Incident.

It was quite a night, one might say.

"Um," Charles said, bringing Erik out of his thoughts, "what are we going to do about them?" He motioned to the two dopes on a log.

Erik sighed. "Just leave em'," he said to Charles. "They'll be fine after a couple of hours."

If not: the bears and the woods...

They turned back to Sean and Alex.

"So seriously," Logan said out of goddamn nowhere, "nobody has told me yet: are we out of fucking booze, or what?"

Erik and Charles just looked at each other.

TBC


	16. Coming To An End

"What's wrong with Alex?" Scott questioned as he looked at the dozing boy in the back of the raft.

Hank paddled down the river effortlessly. He tried not to look back at the passed out kid. "Nothing's wrong with him, Scott, he's just sleeping."

"What about Sean?" Scott glanced over at the redhead, who was looking a bit droopy eyed himself.

Jesus, where does Hank begin? He just shrugged. "He'll be fine, too," he concluded.

"Hey! I think I see the pick-up site," Logan (wait, Logan's still alive? Holy hell, it's a fucking miracle) said as he pointed off in the distance. "Can't believe it's almost over. This was fun."

And Hank couldn't believe Logan didn't die.

Wait. Fun?

"Sean almost _died_," Hank put out there dryly, because, well; it's _true_.

"But the important part was, he didn't." Logan said. Because if not…

The woods and the bears.

"Well _I_ had a good time," Charles murmured to Erik, causing the taller man to wink at him with his own knowing smile. Charles frowned. "Well, except for the whole "Sean Almost Dying Incident", of course," he added belatedly. Then thought about this. Perhaps they shouldn't refer to it as that—it seemed so… deathy.

"And the part where my son got high," Erik added bitterly, the memory suddenly coming back to him. He looked off at his sleeping offspring in the canoe ahead.

"Don't forget the time Logan dumped Charles off the canoe," Azazel said as he rowed by, smirk on his face. Logan just held up his beer can in solute as they passed.

Jesus. How is that man still alive?

Charles chuckled and Erik shook his head. "I think my favorite part was the log," the taller man said as he looked at Charles, giving him another wink.

Blushing, Charles ducked his head before looking up at Erik through his eyelashes. "I liked that, too," he said softly.

"Just wait until I get that ass of yours in a bed—it won't even compare to that log." Erik growled out, and, oh my—they just might fuck again right there in the canoe—everyone else be damned.

"Erik!" Charles chided with a small smile, which meant that he was already thinking along the same lines as the older man. _Bad Erik._ "Are you trying to get me hard again before we get to the end?"

Probably.

Shrugging, the older man continued paddling down the river. "You know I'd take care of it if you did," he replied.

Jesus. Erik sex-on-legs Lehnsherr everyone. The man's a walking sex machine.

But only for Charles. Everyone else can piss off.

Looking baffled, Charles asked: "Where? We're almost at the end. It's not like we can pullover anywhere now." Not without rising major suspicion.

"No, but I could take you behind that building over there," Erik told him as he motioned with his head over to the pick-up zone.

Well, Charles be damned—there was a small brick building where the bus was waiting for them.

Very well then.

"I bet you I could get you off while they're loading up the canoes and raft," Erik said with a wicked grin.

Yep. Sex on legs.

"Oh, Erik," Charles said breathlessly, already getting excited over the notion. "You would do that?"

And did he really have to ask? It's Erik; he'd fuck Charles in a room full of people.

No kids of course, Erik does have some standards.

Logan, on the other hand…

Erik nodded, wicked grin still on his face. "Of course I would, darling; you're my boyfriend now, sexually pleasing you comes first and foremost."

Oh. Oh Charles could get used to that.

"Race to the end!" Logan declared before ripping the paddle from Darwin's hand as they passed by the kid's raft.

"Hey!" the boy yelled out, but it was too late; Logan and Azazel were already paddling like the crazy fucks that they were.

But remember:

"This is _not_ Survivor," Hank shouted after the legally insane assclowns. He sighed. Morons in a boat.

Logan just flipped him his favorite hand gesture, not even looking back.

"Classy," Hank muttered as Kitty asked: "What does that mean?" Referring to Logan's rude hand gesture.

And good thing Alex and Sean were out, because if not, they undoubtedly would have filled her in promptly on said meaning. So instead, all the other child took turns trying to decipher what it had meant while Hank supplied them with a steady stream of "No's" to all their guesses.

This was about the time that Hank decided he wasn't going on next year's float trip, and that Charles could suck it.

Oh wait, he probably already did.

Twice.

Hank shuddered.

…

Once back on land, Hank started dragging the raft on shore- -so ready for this fucking trip to be over- -while the canoe rental employees came down to help. Some of the children were running around and trying to jump back in as Hank struggled with the large craft. Logan was taking a record long wiz on a nearby tree that was sure to die shortly thereafter from alcohol poisoning- -it was wilting already- -as Azazel slung a still sleeping Alex over his shoulder and carried him to the bus. Sean was laying face down in the sand (probably still alive), waiting his turn, and the canoe rental employees had that look on their faces that screamed: what the hell?

"Where's my dad and camp counselor Charles?" Raven asked up at Hank once the canoe rental employees took over from there. _Thank you._ Hank looked around, and then sighed. "Damn it, Charles," he muttered, then glanced down at the little blonde girl. "I don't know, but don't go wandering off, just go wait on the bus with Kitty and Anna Marie." Lord knows poor little Raven doesn't need to go wandering off and stumble upon that scene…

Whatever it may be.

"All right," Raven said with a shrug, "guess I go look at all the shells we collected." She took off towards the bus, passing Logan and the slowly wilting tree on her way. "You coming, uncle Logan?" she asked to the man's back.

Logan, who was still assaulting the now dying cypress with his toxic urine, turned his head to look at his not-by-blood niece. "Yep," he grunted, "just give me a minute, I'm almost done here."

The tree, looked pretty fucking done.

"Good god, Logan," Azazel called out as he hoisted a sleeping Sean up and over his shoulder. "That tree's leafs are turning brown. What the hell man?"

Logan just smirked, zipping his fly up. "Yeah, that tends to happen."

Raven walked by Azazel next. "He's right, we used to have a weeping willow in our front yard, but after years of uncle Logan using it as a toilet when he came home drunk at night (because he always found himself locked out, mysteriously), it shriveled up and died."

Puts a whole new meaning to the name "weeping willow".

"Hey," Logan said in his defense, "I wasn't the only one who used that tree as a pit stop; your father's just as guilty."

Sometimes he would find himself locked out, too. Yeah, it goes both ways.

And speaking of Erik, where was the bastard?

…

Erik's lips crashed into Charles' as he pushed him up against the brick building, hands roaming south.

"Oh Charles," he breathed out against the smaller man's mouth once he pulled away. "Your lips are so soft, I could just suck on them all day." He cupped Charles' erection through his shorts. "But I think I'd rather suck on your cock instead."

Charles' breath hitched. He leaned against the building, spreading his legs apart more for Erik. "But Erik," he panted, "what if someone sees us?"

"Then they'll probably get turned on," he said shamelessly as he grabbed onto Charles' hard cock again. He palmed it through the counselor's shorts, getting a small, low moan to drift from Charles' mouth.

Perfect.

"Tell me you don't like this, that you don't want it," Erik teased into his ear as he rubbed harder. "Tell me you don't want my mouth on your cock, and I'll stop right now, Charles."

Charles shuddered, eyes sliding closed as he breathed out a "No, I want it," and Erik placed a quick kiss to Charles' ear before lowering himself down to his knees- -_oh god_- -placing more kisses to the outside of Charles' shorts; mouthing the man's hidden erection.

It wouldn't be hidden for long.

Immediately, Charles' hand migrated to the German's hair and tangled in it. He looked down at the man under him and muttered: "Goddamn Erik, I'm not going to last long with you looking up at me like that." Erik just smirked as he continued kissing Charles' cock through his clothes. Good, now he knows how Erik feels every time Charles looks at him.

"That so?" he muttered against Charles' pants.

Charles whimpered a little and bucked his hips closer to the man on his knees. "Jesus Erik, would you just put my cock in your mouth already? I can't take much more of this blasted teasing."

After creating a very nice wet spot on the front of Charles' khaki shorts (try explaining that one later), Erik smirked up at the man above. "I thought you'd never ask, Charles," he purred, then undid the counselor's pants ever so slowly, dragging the zipper down at a tedious, nail biting pace.

"Oh for the love of... " Charles bit out, all patience gone. He reached down and all but ripped his pants open, taking his strained cock out at record speed before running his hand over it . He looked hotly down at the man below him. "Open your mouth, Erik," he got out, and Erik complied quickly, bringing his head closer.

"That's a good love," he said as he placed one hand on the back of Erik's head, the other staying firm around his cock as he guided it into Erik's waiting and open mouth. Lovely.

Erik wrapped his lips around Charles the second he entered his mouth, sucking and looking up at the brunet in wanton. Charles drew his cock back out with his hand, still holding the older man's head in place with the other. He repeated the process a couple of times; pushing his cock into Erik's mouth quickly and then pulling out before the man had the chance to suck him properly.

"Damn it, Charles," Erik growled, pulling back to look up at his teasing boyfriend. Was this payback? "Do you want me to suck your cock or not?"

Smirking, Charles pulled Erik's face back with the hand behind his head and traced the tip of his cock around Erik's lips before saying: "Of course I do, love. I just want to tease you a little first."

Right, payback.

Erik flicked his tongue out and licked a broad stripe over the top of Charles' cock before grounding out: "You know I want your cock in my mouth, so give it to me, damn it." He flashed his eyes back up at the younger man sternly.

Mmm, angry sex with Erik Lehnsherr, what could be hotter?

Angry sex with Erik Lehnsherr while tied up.

Maybe another time…

Charles felt a jolt run through his body at Erik's demanding words. He tipped Erik's face up and tapped his cock against his lips again. "All right, open up dear," he said softly.

Keeping his gaze locked on the man above him, Erik's mouth slid open and before he even had a chance to swallow Charles in, the younger man was already shoving in deep, causing Erik to gag.

Once the gagging subsided, Erik went to work sucking Charles frantically. The hand never left the back of Erik's head and Erik never stopped trying to choke himself on Charles' thick member. He worked it like he was on a mission- -fast and messy- -as tears rolling down his face.

"My god, Erik," Charles rasped out, looking down at him, his hand still moving back and forth with Erik's head movements. "You don't have to try and kill yourself on my cock," he panted out, pleasure overflowing through his veins, threatening to spill out in the form of semen.

This only prompted Erik to suck faster and harder, causing Charles to nearly come crashing down on top him. The smaller man leaned against the side of the building and moaned out indignity as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from Erik's talented and beautiful mouth, and he briefly wondered how the man was ever married to a woman, because Jesus Christ, he sucked cock like a pro.

Charles shudder and gripped both the wall and the back of Erik's head as he came heavy down the man's throat, moaning out his name and something R rated about what he wanted to do to him later. Erik swallowed his prize and looked up hotly at the man above him.

"My god, Charles," he said hoarsely, "I love the taste of your cock."

Another shudder ran through the younger man and he pulled Erik up by the hair and crashed their lips together in a filthy kiss. Erik pinned him against the wall with both hands on either side while he pressed into the kiss. Charles moaned once more and Erik pulled away with a smirk, eyes roaming slowly over the man he just sucked off on the side of a building. Kinky.

"No more of that dirty talk," Charles warned as he made himself presentable again. _Ha! Good luck with that._ He zipped his shorts up. "This boner will never go away with all the filth that comes out of your mouth, dirty boy."

"But you love it," Erik said wickedly against Charles' neck. He nuzzled the other man with a new sort of possession. Charles' eyes instantly closed against the touch as a shudder rippled up his spine. His whole body went tingly.

"I think one day I might love _you_," he murmured as he tipped his head back against the building, allowing Erik to place a trail of kisses along his neck and jaw.

Pulling back, Erik looked at him.

And once Charles realized Erik's lack of lips on his neck, and opened his eyes to look at the man, he wondered if he crossed the line by saying something so premature.

Luckily, he was relieved when he was met with Erik's lips against his own. Erik kissed him frantically, then pulled back after a moment; breathing gone ragged. He pressed his forehead to Charles'.

"I think I could love you, too, some day." Some day very soon.

Charles felt all tingly again and pressed one last kiss to Erik's lips before looking down and-

"Oh. I suppose I should help you with that."

But Erik just shook his head, saying, "It's okay, baby." He pulled back from Charles so he could see him better. "You can get me later." An eyebrow arched. "You are coming over tonight, yes?"

Charles smirked. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of not."

"Good," Erik told him, running a soft hand down the counselor's cheek, "I'll put Logan's shit out on the curb before you get there." And really, good fucking riddance to Logan, they had a good run, but now it's time to say _fuck off_.

Charles laughed. "Now, now, you don't have to do that, love," he chided. (But part of him felt all gooey inside that Erik even offered.) And, it's not that Logan was a bad person, per say... just the biggest prick on this side of the western hemisphere.

Or the world, whatever.

"You're right," Erik said, "he'd just loiter around outside cursing at me until I let him back him." A smirk. "Guess you'll just have to crash in my room tonight." Like the couch was ever really an option. Erik would set fire to the couch before he ever let Charles sleep on it, instead of by his side.

Where Charles belonged!

Hmm, although, maybe if he set fire to the couch anyway, Logan would be forced to move out. Seeing how Erik would have set ablaze to his only bed.

No, then Logan would just replace the couch with an actual bed (or dirty old mattress he found on the side of the road—because there was that one time that Erik DID find Logan asleep on one, a few houses down, when Logan was too drunk to get his key to work) and then he'd never leave.

"I would like that very much," Charles muttered against Erik's oncoming lips before they pressed against his firmly.

"Hey fucktards," came Logan's offending, polluting voice. "Quit sucking each other's faces already—it's time to go!"

Erik deadpanned as Charles pulled away, slight embarrassment on his soft features.

"We can still put his shit on the curb..." Erik said dryly.

"Erik." Charles chided.

"All right, all right," Erik said, "the bastard can stay."

TBC


	17. End

**A/N: This is kind of an epilogue more than anything.**

Two years later…

"Are you sure you'll be all right without me?" Charles asked, worry in his voice, baby in his arms.

"Relax, dear." Erik smiled, and then placed a tender kiss atop the infant baby's head. "Take care of daddy while I'm gone," he cooed sweetly.

Rocking their baby in his arms, Charles still couldn't help but have his doubts. "I'm sorry, love, it's just the first year I'll be absent—I can't help but be a bit worry about you."

Erik loaded another tent into the back of Azazel's bus before he addressed Charles. "We'll be fine, Charles—I assure you. Besides-" he looked over his shoulder with a grin, "-we have Logan with us again this year."

"Hey!" Logan said, setting down a larger-than-normal sized cooler, undoubtedly full of beer. He looked up at the two men with a smirk. "That's _Camp Counselor Logan_, to you."

Erik gave a two fingered solute to the crazy man and Charles mumbled something that sounded mysteriously like: "Dear Lord have mercy on them all…"

Turning back to Charles, Erik gave him a reassuring look. "Everything with be just fine." He looked at their adopted daughter. "Unless you want _me_ to stay at home with Jasmine and you can go with Logan and Azazel…"

An image of a flaming bus flashed through Charles' head quickly. He shook the thought away and turned back to Erik. "No, you're right; I should stay home with Jasmine." He looked at the baby in his arms fondly. "She is a bit of a daddy's girl, anyway, isn't she?" he cooed at the tiny infant.

"Hm, that's funny, I pegged you more for the "mom" and Erik the dad," Hank said nonchalantly as he walked by, cooking supplies in his hands. He gave both men a satisfied smirk.

"Ah, Hank," Charles beamed, "so good that you decided to join us again this year. We did miss you terribly last. I trust the break did you some good?"

Nodding, Hank looked down at the ground. "Yeah, it did." The poor man went through a lot the year before that, lord knows he needed a break. He looked back up and smiled. "But, as soon as I heard you-" he nodded at Charles, "-were skipping out on the fun this year, and leaving Erik and Logan to take charge (his voice went a tad dry there), I just had to come, you know; to make sure that no one _dies_," he said as he looked straight at Logan, and accusingly so. Well, Logan _never_.

"What?" The burly man shrugged, smirking at Hank. "It was only once, and in my defense, he didn't die…" he finished lamely.

"You're lucky Sean's parents didn't sue us." Hank snapped.

Ah yes, the "Logan Pushed Sean off a Cliff and into the River While on the Float Trip Incident". Charles remembers it all too well.

"We're all lucky he thought it was "cool", after the matter," Charles added quietly as he recapped the memory from two summers ago.

Two summers ago: that's when he met Erik. He smiled fondly at the memory as he watched the man he loved laugh while Hank and Logan argued over whether Sean could've punctured a lung from the fall.

"…saw the way he bounced off those rocks! It could've happened."

But it was _one_ summer ago that changed Charles' life as he knew it. It was the year that Erik proposed. Still smiling, Charles looked down at the silver band on his ring finger.

"…there was no way at that angle that he would have endured any internal damage, that and, the cliff wasn't steep enough. I've fallen drunkenly off worse…"

Letting the voices around him fade, Charles thought back to that wonderful day…

_"Charles," Erik called from the fire, "come here, I have something I want to show you."_

_The children were all already off in their tents and sleeping, so Charles made his way over to his boyfriend, plopping down right next to him. "You're not going to throw another flaming marshmallow at me again, are you?" He asked dryly._

_Smirking, Erik wrapped an arm around his lover. "Hey, come on now, you know that was a mistake."_

_Charles deadpanned. "A flaming marshmallow hit me square in the face, and you stood not but five feet away with an empty stick and a smirk. How was that a mistake?"_

_"I told you what happened," Erik said, same smirk on his face, "the marshmallow caught fire and I was simply trying to put it out by waving the stick back and forth gently. It's not my fault the thing flew off the stick and landed on your face."_

_A pause._

_"Gently?" Charles turned to face Erik completely. "You were whipping that stick around with more force than a hurricane."_

_"Charles, stop talking." Erik smiled and grabbed both of his lover's hands. "That's not the point. I called you over for a different reason."_

_Looking slightly perplexed, Charles cocked his head to the side. "Okay… go on."_

_Erik looked around. "Shit, this isn't going to work." He looked at Charles. "I need you to stand up."_

_Even more confusion cast over the brunet's face. "Pardon? What's not going to work?"_

_"Just stand up, Charles," Erik said, pushing the smaller man to his feet._

_Charles complied, making his way to his feet again. "All right, all right, no need to get pushy," he grumbled as he looked down at Erik. "Now what?"_

_Holy shit! Is that Sean?" Erik said quickly, pointing behind Charles. The brunet whipped his head around and looked off in the distance, in horror._

_"What? Where?" He searched the grounds but saw nothing. "Where, Erik? I don't see him." He continued scanning the forest before turning back to look down at the crazy man below him. "I don't see anyone, what-"_

_But what he saw froze the words in his mouth._

_Erik?" he gasped._

_Charles," Erik said, smile as wide as it could get. He held up a white gold ring. "Just say yes."_

_Staring down at the ring, and then to the man he loved more than anything, Charles, for the first time in his life, found himself speechless._

_And it was the perfect moment, until Logan's booming (and offensive, always remember: offensive) voice echoed from out of nowhere. "Come on, Chuck, what's it going to be? I got fifty bucks riding on this. Yes or no?"_

_Whipping his head over to the surly man that was leaning against Azazel's bus, Charles' face went comical. "Wait, what?" He questioned, then looked back down at Erik. "Bets were placed?"_

_If it helps, I said you'd say yes," Logan informed, taking a puff of his cigar before folding his arms across his chest again._

_Smirking himself, Erik just continued to look up at his lover. "Come on, Charles, what's it going to be? Yes or no?" A pause. "I got money riding on this, too," he added softly, a sheepish look in his eyes._

_Wait, _what_?" Charles' eyes went wide, matching his hilarious facial expression. "You're in the betting pool, too?"_

_"Your money's mine, Lehnsherr," Logan cackled in the background._

_You bet AGAINST him?" Charles practically shouted. He wasn't sure if he should be furious or just laugh at it all. He stared down at Erik. "You bet I'd say no?"_

_Looking sheepish again, Erik just shrugged his shoulders. "Prove me wrong, Charles, prove me wrong," he said quietly._

_That night, Erik lost fifty bucks._

Coming back to the present, Charles shook his head and adjusted the now sleeping baby in his arms.

"…never stand next to YOU on a cliff, you raging lunatic!"

Oh my. How much did Charles miss? When did the conversation head so south?

"Boys," Charles interrupted. He nodded at his sleeping daughter and Erik forgot all about Hank and Logan's hilarious conversation and joined his husband's side.

"She's so beautiful when she sleeps," he murmured before placing a delicate kiss to the top of her head.

Charles smiled, looking down at the bundle of joy in his arms. He still couldn't believe it had only been two weeks since they got the call, and were off to the hospital pick her up. And now, he couldn't imagine life without her. Or Erik, or Raven and Alex; all of them really.

And yes, even Logan.

Speaking of Logan:

"All right, assclowns; are we doing this or not?" he said, walking away from Hank.

"Shh," Erik chided his friend, "Jasmine's sleeping."

Logan grunted as he made his way over closer and looked at the baby in Charles' arm. "Yeah, she does that a lot," he observed. "Let me know when I can take her to the bars," he said as he turned and made his way back to the bus.

Charles' face fell.

Well. Maybe it was time for Logan to start looking for his own place...

"Everyone on the bus!" Logan yelled as he cracked open his first beer of the day. Hank looked at his watch.

9:15 AM; it was an improvement, he thought with an impressed look.

Azazel hung out the driver's side window. "All aboard Satan's Express," he yelled out jokingly.

Charles feared he wasn't joking.

He looked to Erik. "Do be carefully, dear, you know I worry."

Smiling, Erik placed a kiss to Charles' temple before addressing him. "Relax, Charles," he said calmly, "you're just paranoid because it's the first time you won't be going." He looked down at their tiny daughter. "But you have more important things to do this year," he said softly. "Now go home and take care of our child. I'll call you as soon as I can."

And by that he of course means: as soon as he scales that dangerous, and potential life-taking mountain, again. It seemed to be the only place to get good reception around there.

Charles' shoulders relaxed a tiny fraction, "All right," he said, "but _please_-" he looked back at Logan, who was now tossing..._ tossing the children onto the bus one by one_- -oh dear lord- -as they yelled out: "whee". He grimaced before looking back at his husband, "-_be_ careful."

"Of course, dear," Erik murmured before pulling Charles into a passionate kiss, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby in the other man's arms.

"Eww!" came Alex's voice as he hung out one of the bus's windows. "Come on, dad. We're waiting on you. You can make-out with Charles later, like, after the trip—when no one's around."

Oh, they'll be doing more than just making-out when no one's around…

Raven's little head was the next to stick out, right next to her brother's. "Come on, dad! Lets go." She looked at Charles next. "Bye, father! Take good care of Jasmine and we'll take good care of dad for you." She waved her hand at him.

Waving back, Charles grinned. "Of course you will, darling," he said before looking back at Erik. "I trust her word at least," he said quietly with a look of amusement.

Erik rolled his eyes. "Of course you do, she has you wrapped around her little finger."

Rocking Jasmine soothingly, Charles spoke softly. "Of course she does," he spoke of Raven, "she has her father's eyes; I can't say no to her when she looks at me the same way you do." He looked back at the man he loved, soul stealing. "The way you're looking at me now," he added with a hushed voice.

"I love you, Charles," Erik said lowly, "more than you'll ever realize." He ran a hand down the brunet's cheek.

Leaning into the touch, Charles responded, "I already know."

Next Erik bent down a placed a kiss to Jasmine's sleeping head. "Daddy loves you, too, my little angel, and be good for mama while I'm gone."

Charles' face deadpanned. "I thought we agreed NOT to call me that," he said sternly.

But, before Erik could retaliate with how cute it was, Logan was hanging out the bus door, beer in hand, cigar in mouth (dear _god_, it was just like Erik's vision). "Come on, Lehnsherr! You're the last piece of the puzzle. Get your ass on the bus before we leave without you!"

A string of horrible, terrible, scenarios ran through Charles' head in a matter of seconds at the thought of just Logan, Hank and Azazel, being left with a bus full of children.

It would be in the news for weeks.

"Go! Go now!" Charles said as he started pushing his husband towards the bus. "Quickly, before it's too late."

Erik laughed as he made his way onto Azazel's bus. "All right, all right; I'm going." He turned back once more as he got to the doors. "Love you, Charles, see you Sunday night."

"Have a good time, Erik." Charles smiled. "I love you, too."

As the bus took off down the road, Charles couldn't help but pick up a stray sentence that floated his way.

"I'm gonna miss Sean again this year, it's still not the same without him."

Charles shuddered.

Okay, so he missed the boy, too. This was the second Sean-less summer now and Charles still couldn't seem to get used to the boy not being around anymore. He almost missed the boy's wacky antics.

Almost.

And it would have been a tearful goodbye, two summers ago, but when Sean left Charles with these parting words: "_Don't worry, Triple C, as soon as I have children of my own, I'll send them to Camp Xavier every year just like my parents did. And hey, maybe I can even become a counselor and start going on trips with you again_!" he couldn't help but start having plans of early retirement.

Charles glanced down at his daughter. "Come on, dear," he said softly, "we still have to go home and tell that nice lady in uncle Logan's bed (the couch) it's time to leave, or as he put it: _Get Out_. His words, not mine, father would never be that crass."

Turning and heading back to his car, Charles knew everything would be just fine, after all, Erik had Logan and Azazel again to help out. How bad could it be without him?

He had complete and utter faith in Erik. (The others, not so much.)

After all, he did marry the man.

The End.


End file.
